Chronicles of Riddick X: Ultraviolet & Pitchblack
by LA Knight
Summary: There's someone else on the Dark Planet with Riddick and the others: Angel Johns, sister to Mercenary Michael Johns, DNA-spliced, violet-eyed psychic. Renamed "Violet Eyed Angel."
1. Prologue 1 Riddick

**Pitchblack & Ultraviolet**

**Prologue I  
Riddick **

.

The experts say that, in cryo-sleep, most of your brain shuts down. All but the primal side. The primitive side. The animal side. No wonder I'm still awake.

I can smell all of the other passengers, the stink of humans kept in close confines, even through the metal and the fiberglass of the ship and its contents. They're all in cryo-sleep, slumbering like lambs. It almost brings out the wolf in me, the predator. But I can smell one woman especially. Why? Because she doesn't clutter up and mask her sweet, feminine scent with perfumes and colognes like most women. I can smell her, smell her humanity, her femaleness, like citrus and cinnamon. But I also smell something beneath the common human scent. It is an inhuman smell, an animal smell. A primitive smell. And I can tell it's her, not a foreign smell. There's something different about her, the violet-eyed angel girl chained to the side of the blue-eyed devil.

I breathe her in deep, catching and holding her natural perfume in my lungs. When you've been around as many women as I have, you start to appreciate the little things. Little things like their scent. Their natural scent.

But that's not all I like about her.

I love the soft, lavender color of her eyes, and how they grow dark when she's afraid, or angry. I have to wonder, would they darken like that if she were, say, aroused? The animal, the beast in me, which is always in the mood for a fuck - or a violent murder - says it really wants to find out. But I doubt a good little girl like Angel Yasmine Johns wants to fuck with a murderer and con artist, a prison-labeled sociopath, like me.

But that's not what you want to know, is it? You want to know what a man like me sees in a prim, proper young thing like her. Angel Johns, the sister of my enemy, the burning flame of animalistic desire that flares in my sick, twisted dreams of her and her hot, tight little body. What did I see in Angel?

The truth is, as far as human beings go, Angel's a pretty decent person. She's a good listener, when I feel like talking, though that isn't very often. And when she hears one of my horror stories of the Slam, she doesn't get sick or scared like most of those pussy fuckers. She gets angry. Angry that they'd do something like that to another human being. Angel's an idealist, sometimes.

She's loyal to her brother, the blue-eyed devil, but only out of necessity, not true affection - at least, I doubt it, since he uses her as a fuck-doll when he can't get a decent whore - and she looks out for me the best she can. She doesn't let him do whatever the fuck he wants to me, and from the horror stories I've heard her relive in her nightmares, he's done worse shit than I have. Especially to her. Incest isn't really Angel's thing. But she doesn't leave him, because she won't leave me. So she bottles up her rage - ice cold, combustible hatred under pressure, waiting to blow, and she only lets it out when it's time to kick some ass.

Now that I think about it, Angel would make a pretty good killer, if she ever found the necessity to kill someone. She can get very, very, very cold when she needs to be. Kinda like a softer version of me, only with hair. Hahahaha.

Physically, Angel's a tight piece of ass. She keeps her blond hair shoulder-length, but ties it up when it gets too inconvenient. It's the only stupid thing about her - long hair can put you at a disadvantage in a fight. Hence why I keep my head shaved. She's got eyes that sometimes flicker with madness, but it's the contained kind that everyone who's been fucked with too many times holds inside them. She's hot, with a lot of lean muscle to pack a pretty fuck-hard punch that can break a man's jaw, or a swift, high kick that can bust a man's balls and leave him screaming in agony. I'd seen her do it before, too. Once, she'd given a roundhouse kick to a man's head so hard and fast she'd broken his neck.

Which had pretty much been the point, actually.

She's beautiful, both in the normal sense and the dark, twisted sense that, to me, isn't so twisted. She has a frightening grace, and a sixth sense that's kept her, me, and her hard ass brother out of trouble. She can fight just as well as I can, and when she fights, it is a lovely thing to see. It makes my blood run hot to see her kick ass. I love that about her.

I love a lot about Angel Johns, the violet-eyed angel, the girl that, as a child, had worshipped me, practically; the sister of my enemy, the blue-eyed devil, who loved me and loathed him. Yeah, I love a lot about her. And I kind of like her. She's decent, for someone who isn't me, for someone who hangs with Merks. But, I don't love her, and if I have to, I'll kill her in a heartbeat. And, thankfully for her, she knows it. But, we made a deal, and as a decent person, she won't go back on that.

Suddenly, the scents drifting on the air change. There's still Angel's sweet, slightly arousing scent, that pheromone mist that wafts off of her gorgeous body, spice and citrus, filling the air, filling my nostrils and sending lightning bolts of desire through my body. But now her scent is marred by something. An emotional undercurrent, it roils around her in a dark miasma, sending alarm bells ringing in my head.

Wait... she's afraid.

But to be afraid, she has to be awake. You don't dream in cryo-sleep, so she has to be awake. Why is she awake?

Then, thinking, I realize it doesn't really matter why she's awake. What matters is that she's awake, and afraid. It's not an ephemeral fear, terror at some nightmare. I can tell, because her eyes are darting around wildly, trying to locate the source of her dread. It doesn't matter why she'd managed to wrench herself out of the thrall of cryogenic stasis. It doesn't matter if any of the others have woken up, either.

What matters right now is this: why is Angel afraid?

.

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**Author's Note:** So, I went back and revamped all my chapters. Added some stuff, changed a couple things. But I did have to add the new chapter format to everything, so... yeah. For you new readers, welcome to the show. After this fic, there's going to be a while before I can write any sequels because I haven't seen the animated film Dark Fury, so I don't know what happens. Once I do, I can get started on the sequel if my readers so desire, so no worries. Lots of love! Reviews are nice. Thanks much.

- LA Knight

PS – For the record, I own nothing copyrighted by anyone who isn't me. Decipher that, and I'll give you a cookie. Maybe. Or an apple – they're better for you. Lol.


	2. Prologue 2 Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Prologue  
Angel **

.

They say that, in cryo-sleep, most of your brain shuts down. All but the primal side. The primitive side. The animal side. No wonder I'm still awake.

And I know that he is, too. Richard B. Riddick, killer extraordinaire, with his pitch black eyes shined like dead stars and his predacious grin with too many teeth. The notorious murderer wanted in more than a dozen solar systems, the brutal butcher that my mercenary brother has hunted so passionately since before I was even born, or even thought of by my parents. Riddick, the black-eyed devil with the angelic light shining out of his eyes, was awake in the darkness of space with me. The man who could very well be twice as old as my brother, his age unknown, thirty-three or ninety-nine, whose mind defied such constraints as age and origin; Riddick, who killed as easily as he spit.

Naturally organic humans didn't live as long as say, the Nocturnal species, or even the semi-mechanical humans. I have a sneaking suspicion that Riddick is one of the Nocturnes. I myself am a semi-beastial human, crossbred with the longevity DNA patterns in elephants, whales, and the strange, marina behemoths, the Moosica Leviathans, who live for centuries. DNA splicing is so common on the advanced planets. Michael had it, I had it. I knew that the crew of our ship had DNA spliced with snakes and birds of prey, a common practice for Navigation Academy students. If no one among the other passengers had mixed DNA, I would have swallowed my tongue.

And Riddick and I... we are both inhuman from our DNA... and our points of view. Primitive, primal, animal: that is what we both are.

So, Riddick and I have something in common. Neither of us is truly human.

I can't smell Riddick, like he can smell me - of course he can smell me. I know this because he is Riddick, and has a nose that can scent blood in a rainstorm, but I cannot catch his scent in this steel trap of a ship and that kind of upsets me. I enjoy breathing in his scent, the contradictory smells of arctic ice, hellish fire, fresh summer rain, and human blood. I love how Riddick smells.

I can't smell him from where I am in my cryogenic stasis chamber, even with my sharp nose, but I can still sense him, see him with the eyes of my mind. He's chained up, which infuriates me. His eyes are blinded by a strip of onyx cloth, with a steel bit between his strange, perfect, white teeth. Sympathy for him surges up in my chest, rising in my throat. I can't help but be sorry, sorry that such a magnificent, powerful creature as he is must be kept caged. It was monstrous, inhuman, to do that to anyone, especially someone as wild and untamed as the killer my brother and I held captive. I have often told Michael this, but I also know if we don't keep him shackled, Richard B. Riddick, executor of multiple murders and master of homicidal mountebanks, will escape and quite probably kill us.

Well, he'd kill my brother, anyway.

You see, I expect Riddick to kill Mike one of these days, since Mike fucks with him enough and he sometimes gets careless with the keys to the manacles, but the tall, powerful man with the shined eyes won't kill me. We have a deal, and he knows I won't do anything to make him think I'm better off dead. If I do, then he can kill me. I won't hold it against him, and he won't make it personal. Michael doesn't understand this, but that's fine. Mike's an imbecile.

Despite his "monstrous" past and "inhuman" ways, I like Riddick. He's like me, only... worse. Darker, richer, more evil. But he's not... _evil_-evil, like demons or devils, he's just... inhuman, I guess. He's somewhat of a sociopath. But, then, so is Michael, my brother. The murders Riddick committed, for the reasons he committed them, would be considered inhuman on an emotionless level because murder is against the law and immoral, but he did what he had to, and I can do no other than admire him for it.

I've known him since I was a little girl, and he, despite what my brother chooses to believe, was actually a positive influence on my life. He taught me some of my martial arts moves, the times when, for a brief taste of freedom, he and I would visit in the Slam. He taught me how to... not be tough, exactly, but how to bear the things most six-year-olds would cry about, like black eyes and bloody noses.

My brother had paraded Riddick on video before me when I was young, to show me that my big brother, Michael G. Johns, could capture and bring down the infamous Richard B. Riddick. I hadn't cared what Michael could or could not do, I just wanted to see Riddick, talk to him. He fascinated me back then, fascinated me. It had been love at first sight, at least on my part, when I first saw Riddick. He was human to me, not a monster as my brother had said. He was a mystery, a puzzle. As I said, he fascinated me. He charms me now. He has the knack of it.

I remember the first time I met Riddick, back when I was an innocent little girl of perhaps seven or eight, so eager to hear his side of the story, to bring him a small bit of justice. I had wanted to help him, something had compelled me to try and protect him from... something....

But it doesn't matter now, I realize.

What matters now is that the sixth sense I'm so grateful for, that extrasensory perception which both my brother and Riddick think is a huge plus point - that sixth sense is now screaming, alarm bells shrieking like wailing demons in my head. The fear that is always present in me, the fear that spikes every now and then, is spiking very hard now, clutching at my thundering heart with fingers of cutting ice.

Something very, very bad is about to happen.

.

**Author's Note:** _I don't own anything, blah blah. Revamped whole fanfic, yada-yada. While I found out during Chronicles of Riddick that Riddick was actually a Furian, I had already come up with an entire story behind why he's so... superhuman. And since major plot points of the story revolve around the common practice of DNA splicing, I just kept it in there. Yes, Riddick is still Furian, but he also has spliced DNA._


	3. Chapter 1 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter One  
Riddick **

.

Angel.

There she was. Angel Johns was lying at my combat-booted feet, barely conscious if at all. I couldn't do anything for a minute but stare down at her through my blindfold. Her blond hair spilled out around her head, glinting in the light leaking in through the scrapes and cuts on the broken hull. That golden hair burned like a fucking torch, even to my shined eyeballs. So I knelt down and lifted her up into my arms. Her head fell back on her slim stem of a nuck, and I saw the pulse throbbing in her lily white throat. I pushed back a lock of golden hair to reveal a dark, swollen bruise at her temple, and the entire left side of her face beginning to swell rapidly and turn purple and blue, like storm clouds rising beneath her fair skin.

Fury, hot and boiling, bubbled up in the pit of my stomach. She was hurt, and I wasn't the one who had done it to her. Damn it. No one damaged my stuff but me, and Angel counted as my stuff. Take that and shove it up your ass.

The unconscious woman stirred in my arms, moaning softly in pain. I leaned close to her, my nose to her skin, and inhaled, wondering if her pain would alter her scent. There was something there, something feral and molten underneath the cinnamon-citrus of her flesh, but it was elusive. I couldn't hold onto it. My lips just brushed against her neck. Her skin tingled with electric potential. From what I smelled, I could sense that no serious, fatal damage was done yet, but Angel had a serious concussion and, perhaps, some minor cerebral hemorrhaging. It could get worse, but then, maybe it wouldn't.

Did I care? No, not really. Now was my chance, the perfect chance, maybe the only one I'd get for a long-ass time. I was going to get the hell out of this fucking place. Where I would go, I had no idea. I didn't fucking care. But Johns wasn't a pushover – he wouldn't give me too many chances to escape this desert hell. When opportunity knocks and all.

If Angel Johns had to die so that it was possible for me to get the hell out of this trap, then... well... welcome to the fucking food chain, Angel-girl.

Angel whimpered and burrowed against me. She'd done that in her sleep before, and sometimes when she was real fucking scared, but never when she wasn't even conscious. I could feel her breathing on me, her breath soft and warm. My skin prickled under the moistness of the air of her mouth. She whimpered again, a soft little girl sound she never made awake, and I hushed her, putting a strangely gentle finger to her lips. They were wonderfully soft under the callused tip of my finger, her lips. From personal experience, I knew she slathered them with chap stick every night to keep them soft. I ran my fingers over the soft, luscious curves of her mouth, lost myself in tracing her perfect mouth for a moment, reveling in finally being able to touch that strange, feminine perfection. She was amazing, for someone so humane. She was so very beautiful. And she was a ruthless fucking killer, just like me. How had that happened?

If she hadn't been Johns' sister, spawned from the same cesspool as the blue-eyed devil out for my blood, then violet-eyed Angel might have just been fucking perfect. And if I wasn't a notorious killer always on the run from every Merk in the universe, we could settle down together and maybe even get hitched, start our own ruthless-killer breeding farm, and raise lots of fucking psycho-babies.

Ha. No fucking way.

I bent my head closer to hers, not even sure what I was going to do and not caring about this lack of planning ahead. My mouth – she always said my lips were strangely soft compared to the rest of my body, toned and hardened by murder and combat – touched hers ever so gently. I was being extremely careful, so as not to wake her up from her unconsciousness. Even in her state of unknown, she responded to me. She'd always been like that, responsive to my presence, to my voice, to my thoughts, no matter the situation. And now I was fucking kissing her like some dick-headed teenager who'd never been laid before. What the fuck was I doing, kissing the sister of Michael Johns, Mercenary Bounty Hunter out for my fucking blood?!

I'm a dumbass.

But her lips were so very soft underneath mine, human velvet, and I wanted to know what kissing her would feel like before I escaped, wanted to know just how silky and soft her lips were, how sweet she tasted. If I didn't find out now, I'd wonder for the rest of my life. Yeah, the rest of my life, since I had no plans to get recaptured by the psychopathic blue-eyed devil. I'd known the adult Angel for more than twenty years, wanted to kiss her for almost that long. So, I kissed an unconscious Angel Johns goodbye.

Then, I heard the noise close by. And I smelled the stench of hot, blistered metal and sweat, lies and bullshit, hatred and fury. Only one person in all the universe fucking smelled like that.

Michael G. Johns, the blue-eyed devil.

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**Author's Note:** Yes, I revamped this chapter instead of formatting it. I didn't like how this was one of the only chapters in third person and from more than one person's point of view. So I broke it up into pieces. Reviews are great, especially since my back hurts because my computer chair is made for five year olds.


	4. Chapter 2 Johns & Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Two  
Johns and Riddick**

.

Michael Johns squeezed between some debris and out into an open area. Riddick was nowhere to be found, but he saw Angie lying unconscious on the floor.

Was she dead? Had Riddick killed her? Had he done anything else?

Thoughts of the deranged man hurting, killing, raping his sister all flooded his mind.

Then, all thoughts of his sister fled from his mind when a metallic rope wrapped around his throat. He grabbed at it, slipped his fingers between it and the flesh of his neck, wrestled with it. Unfurling his whip, he lashed at the evil man trying to choke the life out of him.

.

I was having an easy time of keeping my balance while strangling Johns. But then I made the mistake of looking over at where I'd set Angel down.

She was gone.

She was fucking gone.

What the fuck?

Had someone – or something – taken her?

I couldn't even smell her, but I smelled the coppery scent of her blood. She was injured, cut up in some way... she hadn't been when I'd had her in my arms. When I'd kissed her so tenderly.

What the goddamn fuck? Where was she?

I felt my balance slip.

_Shit!_

I fell on Johns with bone crunching force, and found myself pinned between Johns' unforgiving gun barrel and the all-too-solid floor. Johns' fingers curved around the trigger, but suddenly a woman's voice – so familiar I almost had a heart attack – cried, "No!"

Suddenly, my senses were flooded with the scent of blood and sweat and tears, desert sand, and angelic femininity.

"Angie-"

"She's bleeding badly, you motherfucker, help her if you want to. If not, don't blame me if she dies. I didn't fuckin' touch her."

I sneered as Johns' gaze shifted from me to his sister, who had collapsed in a bleeding, gasping heap, and then back to me. Did he care more about the bounty than her? Motherfucker. "She'll bleed dry if you wait too long, Johns. An artery's been sliced."

.

Johns knew the bastard wasn't lying. Riddick could smell blood, and arterial blood had a slightly different scent to it than any other kind – that's what the murderer had said when interviewed once. His sister was in deep shit, and Riddick, damn him, knew that Johns wouldn't let Angel die. Damn it.

"Ah, fuck you!" Johns grabbed Riddick by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. He tied him to a support beam before going for Angel.

He dragged her into the light, laying her down at his prisoner's feet. Then he looked up and saw from the look on his face that Riddick recognized the problem immediately.

.

I recognized the problem immediately. The bruise I'd seen earlier had swelled so badly it had split open, bleeding profusely. It was a new genetic mutation, something to prevent cranial pressure from head injuries. In some, it appeared naturally. In others, parents had a hand in selecting it during the bio-engineering process. If that was the only problem, I would have left her the hell alone, but there was more to it. The artery supplying blood to her brain had been damaged. She would bleed to death if I did nothing.

Of course, Johns did the most dumbshit thing ever.

He freaked out.

"Oh, God! Oh, my God!"

"She's still bleeding, pray all you fuckin' want. If you want her to actually survive the next ten minutes, I suggest that you untie me."

"Fuck you."

Johns looked around, frantic, to find a first-aid kit. Fucking imbecile.

"Untie me, and I'll help her. I've been hurt like that before, and know how to keep on my feet, for sure fuckin' alive. Let me help her."

.

"Let me help her," the killer said calmly, quietly.

Johns was hesitant. He didn't trust Riddick, but Riddick knew that Johns would hesitate from the debt of the convict saving his sister. If he ever thought of killing him, he'd hesitate, and when the time came to pull the trigger, he'd hesitate. And Johns knew he'd hesitate. So was Riddick doing this for altruistic purposes, or to slow up his hunter?

Could he really make a decision based on Riddick's motives? Could he really let his sister die?

.

He was taking too damn long! I was starting to get antsy. If he made me wait much longer, nothing I could do would help her at all. Besides, I sorta wanted to do it. Angel was a decent sort, and I had some honor left in me, my own code of ethics. You don't renege on a deal, you don't lie to the good guys, you don't hurt kids, you don't let the decent die, and you never double-cross a partner.

And Angel was beautiful, with soft lips.

I chuckled when Johns untied me.

I knew SBH anatomy, and knew that, on either side of an artery, were two pressure points that, when pressed, stopped the bleeding long enough for the enhanced healing factor to kick in. I found those points on the side of her head, on each side of her temple, and pressed. The bleeding nearly stopped, slowing to a trickle before finally ceasing. I turned my shined, black eyes to the bounty hunter, who scowled at me like I ought to be scared. I ignored him, and pressed a strip of Johns' shirt, ripped off during the tussle, to the large gash and bound it with a ragged strip from my pant leg. Knowing what I did about her race, I knew she'd be alright now.

"There ya go, Johns. Good as new, almost. Shit. And you were actually worried."

I looked down at Angel before glancing surreptitiously at Johns. I could see from his face that the Merk thought I was looking at Angel the wrong way. I probably was. When I looked at her face, there was something in my belly that clenched almost hungrily, like I wanted to eat her or something. Like I wanted to kill her.

Then I thought about what had just happened, her almost bleeding to death, and my face changed. I could feel it, but I couldn't stop it. I started looking at her tenderly, affectionately, somewhat glad she wasn't dead, wasn't going to die. I brushed back a lock of her baby fine blond hair, tucking it behind her ear.

.

Johns had had enough of that shit. He wasn't going to let that monster touch his sister like that. He decided to distract the psychopath from whatever his current thoughts were regarding Angie.

"Carry her," Johns ordered.

"Fuck you!"

"Carry her, you son of a bitch!"

Riddick growled at Johns menacingly, and the other man backed up a step, suddenly terrified.

.

When Johns backed up, showing throat like the whipped dog he was, I lifted Angel into my arms. Johns sighed and quickly got lost. He knew I wasn't going anywhere until Angel woke up. I had to make sure nothing else happened to her, like the bleeding began again. So instead of haring off like a smart man and escaping, I nuzzled her hair with my face, kissed her forehead. After breathing in her sweet smell, carrying it with me for a moment as I held my breath, I exhaled, kissed her soft mouth one more time, and carried her outside.

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**Author's Note:** Another revamped chapter. Some more stuff, but nothing too much added. Hope you new people are enjoying yourselves. Reviews rock my socks.


	5. Chapter 3 Angel & Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Three  
Angel and Riddick**

.

I was lying next to Riddick, who was chained to a post, when I awoke. My eyes, deep violet with grogginess, blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness from my vision, then opened wide. I glanced up at the familiar form of the convict looming over me, who smiled at me. Anyone else would have found the smile chilling. Would have thought that that smile meant imminent death or something.

Not me.

I smiled back weakly, then winced. I put a hand to my head. As a semi-beastial human, I had a very fast recovery rate. The gash that had been there had healed already, leaving a thin scar and some light bruising. But my head still hurt like fucking hell, and Riddick knew it. I could tell from his look. He smiled at me in sympathy, murmuring, "Kinda like having a hangover."

"You would know," I croaked.

"You hit your head. Are you able to stand?"

I tried moving, head banging, sitting up. Got to my feet, watching the world spin round and round like a globe. My brain hurt, so I sat back down. I didn't want to stand because I'd probably hate my skull, but I could if I needed to. Ow.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can stand."

"Don't," he said.

"Why?"

He didn't answer, but stood up slowly. Dislocating his shoulders once, he lifted them high over his head, brought the chain through a gap in the support post, and, relocating his shoulders, brought his arms to rest in front of him. He fell to his knees in pain, and I tried to stand up, to go to him. Remember what I said about being able to stand if I had to? Apparently, I was wrong. I sank to my knees as the world swam and dissolved into gray. I pounded my fists against my thighs, which helped clear my vision a little. My brain felt like sludge in my head. I tried to stand again.

Bad idea.

Failing miserably at getting to my feet, I crawled to his side as he hit the floor, prostrate.

"Riddick?"

He was breathing harshly, trying to accept and then ignore the throbbing pain in both of his shoulders. I knew him so well, I knew exactly what he was thinking. I could read his mind as easily as any telepath. Gently stroking his sweaty forehead, I whispered softly in his ear, "Shhh, you're okay. Come on, if you're gonna leave, you gotta get your legs free."

He took a deep breath, hissed something. I didn't catch it.

"What?" I asked.

"Cutting torch."

"Gotcha."

I grabbed it, half-crawled to where his feet were chained to the floor, and stopped. I couldn't do this. I was betraying my brother by helping Riddick escape. But Mike... he was a violent, sadistic bastard. Whereas Riddick was... well... but Mike was my brother.

"Riddick, I-"

"I know, Angel. Give it here."

I handed to him, and he proceeded to cut through his bonds. He kicked off the ankle restraints, tossed the handcuffs. He gently massaged his wrists, and I saw they were bleeding, the skin rubbed raw by the metal. Suddenly, I could see my pulse flickering blackly in the corner of my right eye. Riddick pushed himself up off the floor, towering over me.

I stared up at him with wide eyes.

Riddick was loose.

I tried to get to my feet.

"Angel, don't. Don't make me kill you."

I continued struggling.

"Angel-girl, I'm warning you, I will kill anyone who gets in my way, and I'll kill anyone who double-crosses me. We had a deal. Remember the fucking deal."

I finally stood up, wobbling, and Riddick looked at me incredulously. It was like reading a book. I could see his thoughts printing themselves behind his eyes. Did I want him to kill me? I had once said I'd be honored to die by Riddick's hand, but he'd thought I was kidding.

I wasn't..

He didn't want to kill me, though. I could see it in his face, in the tense lines of his shoulders. He would if he had to, but he didn't actually want to.

"Angel, don't do that. Don't try and stop me, don't get in my way."

I stumbled, dizzy, and fell into Riddick's arms. I was so helpless, all he had to do was wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze. I wouldn't be able to fight him. But I could feel the reluctance pouring off of him, practically taste it. He really, really didn't want to hurt me, much less kill me.

"Angel..."

"Give me... a hug, Rid. You always say how beautiful I am... so, hug me."

I was right, he did often say how beautiful I was. It made Johns angry, but I always merely smiled and said, "Oh, Riddick."

.

"Give me... a hug, Rid. You always say how beautiful I am... so, hug me."

She was beautiful, with her wild blond hair and flashing, violet eyes. She was beautiful, with her slender, lean body that held so much hidden strength. She was very beautiful. And she wanted me to hug her goodbye.

Hug her.

Lift up my arms and put them around her. Hold her small, fragile, shaking body close to my large, hard, muscular one.

Hug her. Hold her.

"If you fuck with me-" I began, trying to sound harsh and frightening. My voice merely sounded exasperated and lovingly annoyed.

"We had a deal, Riddick."

Meaning, as long as I didn't try to hurt her, she wouldn't try to stop me.

Well, then, why not?

.

He put his arms around me, held me close. His arms were hard and muscular around my small body, making me feel sheltered and safe, and I laid my head against his hot chest. I breathed him in, the scent of ice and smoke, fire and wet earth, blood and metal.

He was a contradiction, was Riddick. A gentle murderer, a violent lover, smelling of ice and fire and summer rains, blood and battle. He smelled so good, I thought, so very good and delicious and just down right sexy.

.

She thought I was sexy, I could smell it on her skin, the pheremones coming off of her. I thought Angel was fairly sexy, too.

I put my nose close to her honey-blond hair, inhaled her sweet fragrance. I was going to miss her smell, I decided. She was the only woman I'd ever met that didn't wear perfume of some kind. I liked that about her, I always had. I also liked how lean and supple she was, how slender, how I could trace the curves of her muscle, and feel how small yet incredibly strong she felt in my arms. I liked how her skin was so very soft, like silk, underneath my hands. I liked how I could imagine, just with this small amount of physical contact, just how it could be if she ever offered herself to me, if I ever took her in my arms and let myself lose control.

I let her go.

She stepped back.

I looked down at her.

She looked up at me.

There were tears in her eyes, and one or two streaming down her cheeks. I didn't like this, didn't like how emotional this was getting. I smirked at her and blew her a kiss. She smiled her exasperated smile and said, "Oh, Riddick."

I turned and started to walk away.

.

He started to walk away.

Something in my heart clenched, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe, much less call out the warning I wanted to give. I gasped for breath, managed to calm my racing heart. I called after him, "Riddick, be careful! Something bad is here on this planet. Understand? It's coming soon. Be careful."

He stopped and turned to me, goggled eyes locking with my violet ones. He nodded to me to let me know he'd heard me, and he blew me another kiss. As he turned away and started to walk towards his freedom again, I closed my eyes, stopped my ears, and held my breath for as long as I could.

When I exhaled, my eyes snapped open and I looked around.

Riddick was gone.

Michael was gonna kill me.

But all thoughts of Mike and Riddick left my mind as, exhausted from blood loss, I fell to the ground, unconscious.

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**Author's Note:** Yes, another revamped chapter. Sorry, the lack of first person and the random insertion of third person was bothering me. Sorry. Hope you new people are enjoying, hope you old people don't hate my guts.

Loves!


	6. Chapter 4 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Four  
Riddick**

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I was worried about Angel. When she'd closed her eyes and let me walk, I'd slipped behind a support beam, managing to keep hidden. I knew she would faint, collapse from blood loss, so I waited.

When she fell into blissful unconsciousness, I kissed her goodbye for the last time, a slow, tender kiss that I hoped she would remember in her dreams, if nowhere else. I was a damned good kisser, according to plenty of whores I knew. I trailed my fingers over her succulent body, up and down and up again, caressed her gorgeous face.

When I realized I couldn't keep touching her like this, or I'd get stuck here, mesmerized by her sweet perfection, I jerked my hand back.

But, I wanted just one last little touch. So I traced her lips one last time, memorizing every luscious curve of her mouth, and then I shook myself from my reverie and left.

That was a while ago, a few hours. Now was now. Now, she was in my sights again.

Now, I was watching her walk with the Holy Man and his boys, and Johns, and the ship Captain, Caroline Fry. They were all searching for water, but they were also looking for me, and I was hiding from them. Why would civilians go looking for me? They musta had a death wish.

But, though I should have been keeping a low profile, I couldn't resist cutting off a small lock of Angel's gorgeous hair when she wasn't paying attention, to keep with me as a souvenir or something. It hadn't occurred to me before. I'd been too zombified by her hot little body. But, just so that jackass motherfucker Johns never ever found out that I had the desire to fuck his lovely, angelic little sister, I cut off a lock of Fry's hair, too.

I checked the scent, just to see, and sure enough, Fry wore perfume. Lavender oil. I hate perfume. It reminded me of my whore of a mother. I hate my mother, too. She abandoned me when I was born. The only thing I remember about her was the blue hair ribbon she'd worn as she gave birth to me, the satin hair ribbon that she tied around my wrist when, thinking I was stillborn, she'd left me in a trashcan, crying her twelve-year-old heart out. That ribbon, which was in my back pants pocket, still carried faint whiffs of her scent.

But it was also soaked with the smell of lavender, lilac, and chamomile oil.

A whore's scent.

After they left, I watched Angel look around for a minute. I knew she sensed me, she had to. My psychic scent - the smell she got when her mind powers gave her something that concerned me - was so familiar that no amount of shielding on my part, if I could have shielded myself, would have done any good.

I saw her look right at me, and the look on her face was so unbearably sad, I nearly called out to her. I hated seeing that look on her face. But I checked myself: What kind of fucking idiot was I, that ten minutes after I escape, I do something so fucking stupid that will obviously get me recaptured?

But, Angel tended to have that effect on a man. She tended to make men act pretty fucking stupid. She could even do that to me sometimes.

I watched her leave, and I left with her, going in the opposite direction, back towards camp. I had stuff I wanted to check out.

I got taken again an hour later.

**.**

"So, you finally found something worse than me."

I'd been retaken, put back in chains, by the blue-eyed devil, but Angel had insisted on no bit, and no ankle chains. She wouldn't let Johns lock me up till he agreed. So here I was, accused of murdering Zeke, the Australian man, chained and kept in the dark, without my fucking goggles.

But the monsters, the creatures, whatever they were, had killed Zeke and nearly killed Caroline, or so I'd heard.

"Here's the deal: you work without chains, without bit, and without shivs. You do what I say, when I say it. Okay?"

I looked at him incredulously. Work for him, this bastard whelp of a motherfucker, without a weapon, and for what? He wasn't gonna give me a chance to fuck his sister to my heart's content, and he wasn't gonna let me go free.

Besides, even if he had given me permission to fuck Angel's pretty little brains out (I can dream, can't I?) she wouldn't have let me. So why would I work for Michael Gabriel Johns, the blue-eyed devil?

"For what? The glory of going back to the Slam? Fuck you."

I saw Angel come up softly, cat-like, and stand a few feet behind Johns. She gave me a pleading look that said, _Please do this. For me, please, do this. Concede to my brother's desires._

No way in hell was I gonna do that, and I told her so with my look. She sighed and threw a silent tantrum, beating her fists against her thighs and pantomiming her frustrations to whatever God might be listening. Or watching, as it were. I could barely manage to keep from laughing, she was so funny.

But Johns stopped my appreciation of Angel by answer my previous question.

"Honestly, because Angie and I are tired of chasing you."

"Are you saying you'd let me walk?"

Angel's look of derision made it hard to keep a straight face. I knew she didn't believe him, and she was his own flesh and blood. Why should I, his enemy, believe him, then? Huh?

"For all I know, you could've died in the crash."

"Recommendation: do me. X me out right now. Don't take the chance that I'll get shiv happy on your wannabe ass. Ghost me, motherfucker, because that's what I will do to you."

Johns pulled out his big gauge weapon and I heard Angel, who is usually so careful about making noise and staying hidden, let out a soft moan. It wasn't much, and it was very soft. It washed over my extremely acute senses, falling like silk on my ears, caressing my body like the most intimate of sweet touches.

Johns heard it too, and he growled in frustration. He knew Angel would, quite probably, kill him if he shot me right now, chained like I was. He aimed the gun a tad higher and fired, blowing the links of my cuffs.

"I want you to remember this moment, and think on how it could have gone and didn't. Eh?"

Angel was slumped against the wall in the shadows, hiding from her brother. I felt like giving the poor girl a show. When Johns held out my goggles, I reached out slow, and fucking quick grabbed his gun and had it aimed at his Carotid artery.

"Rid-" He began, employing Angel's rarest nickname for me, but that just pissed me off. Nobody called me that but Angel. I was this close to pulling the trigger.

But that's not what I wanted the lilac-eyed girl of my twisted dreams to see.

Not yet, anyway.

"Fuck you!" I shouted.

Johns merely asked, "Do we have a deal?"

I could sense Angel's attention on me, her eyes wide and anxious. I could see the questions in her mind. What was I going to do? Would I kill her brother? Would I kill him for her, for what he'd done to her?

I might eventually, but not now. I lowered the gun and gave it back to him.

"I want you to remember this moment." I said.

He left, walking right by Angel in her hiding place. He didn't see her, obviously.

When he was gone, she slipped out and came to me. We just looked at each other, stared at each other for a few moments.

Then, placing her hands on my chest for balance, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed my lips. Just a little girl kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless. And I enjoyed it, enjoyed the feel of her mouth against mine, enjoyed the sensation of her warm, sweet breath against my lips. She didn't know it, but she was a good kisser for an innocent virgin of both experience and relationship. That made me smile.

"Don't make him scare me like that again, you hear me? Don't do it."

She kissed me again, just the same as she had a second ago, and I marveled at how one tiny little kiss from an inexperienced little girl could set me on fire like I've never felt before. I'd never known such a wicked heat as this. It was gloriously twisted. It was fast, furious, like the pulsing of white-hot poison through my blood, and it was fucked in the best and worst ways. It was just a kiss, and any whore off the street could have done better, but this innocent little peck on the lips was lighting my fire.

I nearly moaned, the pleasure this kiss offered was so intense. What was it about her that did this to me? This was just a normal kiss, an innocent peck like a sister would offer. Or a first-date girlfriend. But this kiss nearly bowled me over.  
I didn't want to kiss her back, but I did, a little bit, and then she was gone, like the sweetest of whispers in the dark.

**.**

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**Author's Note: **Really only formatted this. Added like, 3 words and fixed some spelling errors. Hope you newbies are enjoying the awesome possum chapter. Review?


	7. Chapter 5 Riddick with Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Five  
Riddick with Angel**

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"Angie, you bitch!" Johns roared.

I was watching from behind Johns. The Merk thought he and Angel were alone, since I, after having been recaptured and given a deal of no chains, no bit, no fucking problems, was now supposed to be helping the others.

But I was watching the two of them.

Johns took a swing at Angel and hit her in the side of the head. She fell to the ground, holding a hand up to her temple. Blood was pouring out of what I thought was the reopened wound, but I realized he'd cut her badly with the ring on his right hand. She was bleeding badly, and the tears were falling from her lovely violet eyes.

But she was angry. Her eyes were a dark, royal purple, and she was furious.

So was I.

No one hit her except me. I was the one who hurt, who attacked, who killed. And if I didn't touch her, no one did. No one touched her but me.

But I wanted to watch Angel kick her brother's ass at that moment more than I wanted to kick his ass myself. She was so sexy when she was pissed off. I could listen to and watch her bitch at her idiot older brother all fucking day if I ever wanted to. Johns would always deserve it, and it'd be funny to watch the angelic little spitfire from opposite heaven knock the motherfucker on his ass.

Hahahaha.

"You let him escape! You goddamn bitch, you let the motherfucking bastard escape!! Goddamn you! Sure we got him back, and sure, we'll keep him till we get off this fucking rock, but you didn't know that, you couldn't say it was gonna happen! And yet, you let him fucking escape, and you curled up in a fucking ball so you could tell me ya didn't know where the fuck he went. You bitch!"

He kicked her in the side. I heard a rib crack.

Suddenly, I wanted to beat his ass down into the dirt. I wanted to skull-fuck him in his sleep, as he had so elegantly put it. I wanted to kill him. She shouldn't have had to take this.

But then Angel caught my eye. Blood rushed through me and straight to my cock when I saw her. She was furious. She was wide-eyed, the violet in her huge, glossy eyes so dark they were practically black. Her lips were set in an unforgiving slash of a mouth, and bright spots of furious color danced on her otherwise colorless cheeks. She was gasping for breath, fists curled, trying to get up. She was breathing hard, and the tantalizing lift of her breasts as she drew in each and every breath was starting to make me pretty fucking horny.

I desperately wanted to fuck her.

_Which is why, _I thought to myself, _I should look away._

I kept looking at her, though. Damn, she was hot!

Angel stood up slowly, looking like she could barely stay on her feet, and she murmured in her brother's direction, head down as if in defeat, "If you hit me again, I'll hit you right back, just as hard as I can. I'll knock you on your goddamn fucking ass."

Her brother huffed, laughing at her in derision, and leered at her, crying, "Oh, yeah? Bullshit, you fucking bitch-" He took another swing at her and missed. He should never have missed, because now she was gonna kick his ass, and how. She was pissed off, and even I was wary of Angel when she was pissed.

She gave him a roundhouse kick to the face, knocking him flat on his ass, as she'd promised him. She spit on him, and then she kicked it into high gear and ran away, fast as her sexy little legs would carry her.

I followed after her silently, unknown to her, leaving Johns with a nasty bruise on his jaw, a nasty cut where his cheek split, and a slight concussion from hitting the fucking ground so hard. I followed Angel as she continued to run, run away from Johns and, ultimately, from the settlement we'd discovered.

I couldn't let her do that. She could get lost, and if she were right, that would be bad. What if she ran into whatever she sensed out there?

I didn't want her hurt, unless I was doing the hurting. Unless I was the one who could feel her small, slim little body bruising beneath my hands, feel the bones shatter like the most fragile of eggshells, hear the final beat of her heart as I strangled the life from her. I wanted to be the one to slit her throat and watch her beautiful eyes close in exhaustion from the blood loss and finally shut forever in death's sweet sleep.

If Angel were going to die, it would be by my hand, not anyone else's. Not if I had anything to say about it. And right now, I wasn't going to let her get hurt.

"Angel!"

I, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, leapt in front of her just as she was about to leave the camp's outer perimeter.

She gasped, jumped back by two feet, and immediately took a fighting stance before she even checked to see whom it was. She relaxed when she looked at my face.

"You're bleeding again."

She nodded, silent. She wouldn't look at me. Why?

"I saw what happened, with you and Johns. Does he do that a lot?" I already knew the answer, though. Her dreams tell me everything.

Her dreams were violent, passionate, and delicious. Her dreams of her brother were frightening to her, but I loved listening to her dream of me. She would gasp, moan, cry out. She would whisper my name ever so softly, and everything in me would beg to fuck her while she slept. I knew she dreamed of how it could be, how it one day would be, my desire piercing her innocence and making her cry out in ecstasy. The beast, the animal, in my soul would rage at me, shrieking at me to just shrug off my inhibitions, pin her to the ground, and fuck her until she was too exhausted to even talk.

But I never did.

"Does he do that a lot?" I repeated. I waited patiently for her answer.

"Yes." She said it simply, casually. Like it was nothing. I knew it was her coldness, the point where she reaches utter uncaring about anything at all, when she's overwhelmed by anger and fear and hate. Her coldness even scares me, sometimes, but it's useful.

"We'll take care of that later. Let's go." I took her hand and tugged, but she didn't want to go. She shook her head. "Angel?"

"Riddick-"

She stopped. She blushed.

I sniffed the air. Just from her scent, I could tell she was nervous. Anxious about something.

And... turned on. Just a little bit, not full on horny, but still a little turned on. By what? Me? Well, I thought, Angel was a pretty tight piece of ass. She, I thought to myself, was very, extremely beautiful, especially as far as blondes go. And I was good looking, if I did say so myself.

Maybe there was... some mutual attraction between the two of us. After all, she'd kissed me. She'd kissed me twice, and that had nearly knocked me out, her kisses were so powerful. Mutual attraction? Oh, fuck, yeah!

I pulled her towards me, till she was right up against my body. There was no way she couldn't realize my obvious desire. She could feel it pressed against her lower abdomen, and it was making it hard for her to catch her breath.

I bent my head to her neck and inhaled her scent. As always, smelling her gave me a sense of pleasure. I could smell her blood rushing just beneath her skin, smell her nervousness and her arousal. Without knowing it, she was releasing pheromones to get my attention. Part of her animalistic splicing. It was actually kind of a turn on.

I laced my fingers through her hair, holding her head in place as I kissed the satin soft skin of her neck. The breath left her lungs in a soft ooh. My lips stayed over her pulse for a moment, feeling it fluttering. I felt a strange, warm sensation in my chest. I was enjoying myself with this.

My tongue flicked out to taste the salt on her skin, swirling against the flesh just over her pulse. She gasped for breath. I trailed kisses up the side of her slender neck, along the line of her jaw, to the corner of her succulent mouth. It was a teasing kiss, a chaste kiss with as little contact as possible. She closed her eyes briefly against the sensation. I kissed the other corner, kissed both her eyelids, kissed the tip of her nose.

She looked up at me, breathing shallowly, trying to remain calm. I could hear her heart pounding in her breast. She was excited. She wanted me to kiss her. I came a little closer to her. She stood a little bit straighter. Her eyes were bright with obvious hope. I lifted my goggles up to uncover my eyes. I wanted her to see my eyes. The light was uncomfortable to me, but I pulled her into the shade of one of the buildings and then it was all right. She looked into my shining black eyes and swallowed hard.

"Not nervous, are you, Angel?" I asked her softly in a husky whisper.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly.

I smiled, chuckling. "Are you sure?"

She made a soft, breathy whisper-murmur of assent.

"Well," I said, coming even closer, "if you really are totally, one hundred percent sure that you're not nervous..." I trailed off, and it took her a minute to gather her thoughts and nod slightly.

She was quivering with expectation.

I bent my head to hers once more.

I had never wanted to do anything as much as I wanted to kiss Angel at that moment. Which is probably why I did it. I breathed a hot breath against her parted lips, then I touched my lips to hers gently. Or, at least at first, but then I increased the pressure. Her lips were moist and soft, yielding under mine, and I kissed her with everything I had. I was demanding, dominating. I kissed her like the apocalypse was fucking nigh, and suddenly, I wanted her so fucking bad. I wanted her. Fuck, I goddamn needed her. She had my fire lit again, and it was blazing out of control and it felt so very good.

Her arms went around my neck, and she practically melted into my hold. We broke apart, and I smiled at her. The sweet taste of her lips was... haunting.

"Riddick..."

I looked at her then, really looked. She resembled a twenty-year- old girl, wearing a thin, breezy, long sleeve shirt of white cotton and a pair of black, silk/cotton pants. Her boots were of deer hide, thick and sturdy, but not hot like leather or cow skin. She was actually dressed for the desert we were in. But under all that, under the tough-looking, sophisticated, sexy Amazon exterior, she looked nervous, like a frightened rabbit.

She'd never been with a man, or even spent much time around them besides her brother. She bit her lower lip, looking like a sultry, delicious woman. She was so sexy, and I still wanted her. I slammed my mouth down on hers. She met me half way, wanting my kiss, my touch, the fire deep in my belly. She wanted me, too, just as badly as I wanted her. There was a matching fire in her, as well, and it burned just as hot as mine.

The next thing either of us knew, we were lying on the sand in the shade, horny as a couple of teenagers, kissing ravenously like rabid wolves, almost, my body on top of hers, her blood trickling from the gash at her temple. I was straddling her thin waist, brushing against her as we pressed close to each other. God, I needed a fuck! I needed Angel, so very fucking badly. She bucked her hips against me, just as eager for what had to inevitably come after this.

We kept kissing. I didn't know or even care where this might go, but I never found out. While I was kissing her petal-soft lips and my hands were reaching to touch her hot, sexy body just the way women like, just the way I so desperately wanted to, a shout went up from the others back at the settlement. We stopped and looked back the way she'd come.

Suddenly, I heard her heart nearly stop, then begin hammering in her chest. Her eyes were wide in shock.

"Probably just found that fucker of a brother of yours with those bruises."

I was about to kiss her again, but she shook her head, fear suddenly in her eyes. I felt the rage start to boil up inside me, and I wanted to hit her. After all this, after the kisses and caresses, she was afraid. Now, she was afraid. I wanted to hit her as hard as I fucking could. But I never would.

So, instead, I just looked at her, my eyes hard and flinty. She had a glazed look in her eyes, and I realized she wasn't afraid of me. She had an inkling, a hint of things to come, maybe even a vision. That's what she was so very afraid of. At least, that's what I thought she was worried about. But I had to make sure.

When her eyes cleared, a few moments later, I asked her, "Premonition?"

She nodded.

I got off of her like I'd been burned.

"Come on!"

We leapt onto the rooftops, and started running.

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**Author's Note:** Just fixed some grammar and spelling errors, and got rid of the word "traitorous" because Johns would never say that in conversation. Reviews?


	8. Chapter 6 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Six  
Riddick**

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"Where's Riddick and Angel?"

That was the kid, Jack, the girl. The one pretending to be a boy. Looking out for us, that one was. Cute kid.

I heard Paris, the drinker, shout, "Leave 'em, they're probably off fucking some place! They'd leave us if it was them!"

We exchanged a glance, then Angel and I leapt onto the Sand Cat, Angel glaring fiercely as her brother came running. The drinker gave me a fake smile and murmured, "Oh, thought we'd lost you two. Would have been a pity."

Angel hissed at him. I helped Johns onto the Sand Cat, knowing his sister wouldn't do it, and then went to sit beside Angel, who smiled at the kid. When I saw her, I was surprised. And a bit touched, though the others really didn't need to know all that.

She's shaved her head of her short, scruffy black hair, fashioning it to look like mine, what little I had left, and her eyes were hidden behind the black goggles she pulled over her eyes. I wondered where she'd gotten the goggles and the stuff to shave her head.

I could tell Angel was amused by the kid's admiration. She gave her a big smile, the kind she only gives to strange, amusing people. Like that kid, for instance. She bore a striking resemblance to someone I knew. A little, blond, lavender-eyed someone.

She reminded me of how Angel had been when she'd first met me, eager to impress, eager to learn, the eager-listening child who'd request stories of my notorious exploits. She'd worshipped the ground I walked on, and to this day I don't know why. She'd only been five or six when I met her, a sweet little thing all long legs and elbows because, due to the DNA splicing, she'd grown too quickly, matured too fast, and she was a gangly little thirteen-year-old with a six-year-old adoration and maturity.

Johns, the blue-eyed devil, had brought a golden-haired, violet-eyed angel to see me at the Slam, before I was put in one of the pits. I'd been paraded before her, to show the kid her brother's prowess at bounty hunting. But Angel didn't like the parades, hated them in fact. I think it was because she had adored me from the start, despite the horror stories told to her by Johns about me. She saw in me a tender beast, an animal that protected that which it cared for almost to the point of abnormality. She had seen a gentle giant, a mother lion. I'd thought she was cute. Ridiculous and hopelessly romantic, true, but cute. She liked me, and I adored her. Maybe, I even loved her. A little bit.

She'd loved me when she'd been a little girl, I think. Because of that, I hadn't cared what Johns did to me in front of her. I allowed the torments, uncaring. All I cared about was the rage, the sadness, and the hatred in those big, lilac eyes of hers when she was allowed to come to me after. The looks she cast in her brother's direction. The friendship, concern, the love in her eyes when she looked at me made it a bit bearable.

But then it happened. Johns took my little Angel away from me. That's when I went cold, when I lost my humanity... when I became a true monster.

I snapped myself back to the present. I looked at the fiery, grown-up woman who'd taken the place of my little Angel. She may have been cute back then, but damn, she was sexy now!

Angel gaped when she saw the huge, Jovian planet about to block out the suns of this desert planet, the hell of fire and brimstone where we'd shared our first kiss.

Heh, our first kiss.

First Kiss.

I could smell the spike of fear that shot through her, and for a minute, I desperately wanted to kiss her, touch her, maybe even fuck her. I restrained myself.

"What's wrong?"

"Something really bad is going to happen when the eclipse totals out. Four is a magic number, Riddick. Four is a magic number."

What did that mean? Was that all her mind could tell her?

"Light. Stay in the light." She hugged herself and bit her tongue to keep from saying anything else. I nudged her leg with mine, and smiled at her, telling her it was all right. She smiled back.

Johns glared. I loved pissing him off, and even touching her in the most innocent of ways made him angry. Just to add insult to injury, I made sure that the bones everyone else ducked to avoid whacked him hard.

"You forgot to duck, Johns." I saw my beautiful Angel smile.

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**Author's Note:** Revamped chapter again. Hope you guys are having fun! Oh, I dunno if I said this, but I got married in December! Yay!


	9. Chapter 7 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**  
Chapter Seven**

**Riddick**

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"Riddick," Angel whispered.

I heard a tiny spark of anxiety in her voice. She was looking at the planet, I guess, realizing just what was gonna happen when the lights went out. I ignored her. I didn't have time to comfort her right now. We were busy loading the power cells. She hefted a power cell and handed it to me. I dumped it on the deck of the Sand Cat.

"Riddick."

Fear was creeping into her voice, and the urge to fuck her was coming upon me. I loved the sexiness of Angel Johns when she was scared. But still, I ignored her. When we got all five of the cells loaded, I started to turn towards her.

When I didn't see her, I knew something was wrong. I heard a heart-stopping shriek, and then I heard her scream, "_**RIDDICK!!**_"

Johns jumped down from the Sand Cat at the sound of her voice, but I was faster, already on her position, and I saw why she was screaming, and I damned myself for ignoring her. A beast, a creature, like a dinosaur or something, had its tale wrapped around her legs, dragging her down into the darkness it was hiding in. She'd had a sense of evil, and I'd ignored her. I grabbed her hands just as the rest of her vanished into shadow.

She screamed, then I felt a change in her. She yelled, furious, and began kicking as I dragged her upper half out of the shadows and had her wrap her arms around my waist. She had a lot of natural defenses, like the poisoned quills on her ankles.

I dragged her out of the dark, but the thing held on. Kicking off her sandals- having exchanged them for her boots- the thin, elegant, yet terrifyingly strong and deadly barbs on her lower legs flared out, slicing through the creature's flesh, muscle, and bone. I fell on my ass, her on top of me, and I felt one of the quills nick me.

Angel jerked her legs up and away from me, and Johns shot the bastard before it could grab her again. She stood, gasping, everyone else staring in amazement at her calves.

Her pants had been replaced with black capris, so that the cloth didn't hamper her defenses. They saw that her legs were death pale, like the rest of her body, milk white, no pigmentation at all. Fleshed out from her legs were forty-eight poisonous barbs, twenty-four on each leg, twelve on either side of her leg. When nicked by them, they injected poison into your system, as well as secrete bufotoxin, which was usually poisonous, or at least irritating, to humans. Because of her crossed DNA, the poison they injected was a mix of snake venom and spider venom, even though the quills themselves were from platypus DNA.

That made me laugh, but I realized I was possibly fucked. In her current state of agitation, the spines were oozing with venom, and she'd nicked me. But, I didn't feel anything wrong. Still...

"Come here, Riddick." She murmured, the quills laying themselves flat against her legs. She knelt by my leg, looking at the inside of my right knee, where'd she got me. There was a tiny scratch, but no blood. Just to make sure it didn't get infected, though, she nicked her thumb against one of her fangs, for she had fangs, drawing blood, and rubbed it against the cut. Her blood would get into my system, neutralizing any poison she'd introduced. She then stood up.

"What the fuck was that? Those things on your legs?" Jack exclaimed. Angel glanced at her.

"Platypus quills, attached to venom sacs that hold rattlesnake, cobra, cottonmouth, and copperhead venom, as well as black widow, brown recluse, and African wolf spider venom. The glands actually in the skin surrounding the quills, and the skin on my legs, secrete bufotoxin, which my dear brother calls frog poison."

"Why?" Angel gave her a confused look. "Why does he call it that?"

"It comes from the skin of Monkey Tree Frogs." Jack grinned, replying, "That is so fucking cool!" Angel merely smiled and nodded.

"Come on, we need to get... moving... oh, my God!" Johns cried.

I turned with the others to see the small, bat like creatures flocking from their little holes in the ground. They were swarming into the dusky sky, like vampire bats on a mating flight.

"Beautiful," I said, but I didn't mean the bats.

I meant the way Angel's eyes went dark and wide with fear, how her luscious lips parted in a slight O of horror. I meant how her full, round breasts lifted up every time she took a gasping, terrified breath. How her beautiful golden hair, now the color of a volcano due to the light on it, was blowing about her in the wind as she watched the monsters coming. Afraid, she was a beautiful woman. Furious, she was a perfect goddess.

"People," Paris cried, calling us, shattering the instant of adoration, "May I make a suggestion? Perhaps you should flee!"

Everyone bolted, except Johns, Rachel, Angel, and I.

Johns was tugging on Angel's sleeve, but she wasn't moving. Her eyes were locked on the creatures, mesmerized. Her eyes were wide, so very wide, but she wasn't breathing. Johns glared at her, and took off running, leaving her behind. I grabbed her hand.

"Angel!" I grabbed her arm when she didn't respond, yelling harshly, "Angel!!"

She jerked her head towards me.

"Come on, goddamn it! We gotta get out of here!" She looked into my goggled eyes for a brief moment of panic, and we both took off running.

I heard Rachel, the prospector type from Australia, snarl, "Shit!" She started running too. But she wasn't made for this kind of running, we could tell. She was a long-distance runner, whereas Angel and I were sprinters. We were a few feet ahead of her when I felt the animal instinct in the back of my mind.

I grabbed Angel by the back of her shirt and shoved her down.

Rachel hit the dirt near us.

My eyes locked with Angel's, and I saw the question in her eyes.

_Do we move now that they've flown by? Do we move? _

She started to push herself up, and Rachel leapt to her feet and ran. The bats flew after Rachel, but before I could react they'd hit Angel, too, slamming her forward so that she went sprawling a few feet in front of me.

"Angie!" Johns cried.

They were descending on her, and she was too frightened to move. But it was also making it hard for them to see her. I had time.

I leapt up and ran as the little monsters started tearing Rachel apart, as they flew at Angel. I grabbed her by her knapsack this time, tore the pendant from around her neck, and tossed it in the air as I slammed her downwards into the dirt. The things caught at it, clutched it, but soon lost interest when they realized it wasn't edible.

We waited until they left, busy devouring the two halves of the Australian woman. They had dropped the necklace in the dirt a few feet from us. I saw Angel's sparkling, lavender eyes staring at it, then flicking back to me. I gave her the go ahead to get up. Then I heard flapping behind us.

"Run, Angel." I whispered, looking at her. She stared at me, knowing I wasn't gonna be right behind her, or beside her.

"Riddick-"

"_**RUN!!**_پh I shoved her forward, and the tone of my voice made her bolt. Halfway there, she glanced back at me as I dove for the pendant.

The platinum chain with her name in hematite stones, it had been a gift from me, the only gift I could get. Johns, I'd told him I wanted cash, he'd paid me a good behavior allowance. I'd bought the necklace. She'd said the stones reminded her of my eyes. I didn't want her to lose something she treasured, something that I had given to her.

So I dove for the pendant.

She screamed my name as the bats flew at me. I grabbed it up. I ran to her.

When I made it there, Angel shoved both the kid and me behind her, and let out a piercing scream, like the sound a dolphin or bat makes for echolocation. Some of the bats exploded. A lot of them just veered off. The rest just flew overhead, making carrion of Rachel while Angel coughed hard, hacking up and handful of blood. No wonder she hadn't done that before - it must have been agony.

Soon, though, she'd regained the ability to breathe without coughing up a lung.

"Riddick."

I turned to Angel. It was just her, Caroline, and me. Paris and the kid had gone inside.

"Riddick."

Angel's eyes were dark with fury and fear. I could smell the adrenaline in her blood, smell the slowly ebbing terror. She took three steps towards me and threw her arms around me. Her mouth was suddenly on mine, kissing me. There was fright and passion in her kiss, but I kissed her back, reveling in the ability to do so. I held her tightly, suddenly not wanting to let her go. We broke apart, me looking into her eyes.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Sorry, Angel."

She let go, stepped back, and we both turned on impulse towards the eclipsing planet. In that direction we saw, me with my night vision and her with her second sight, the larger, even deadlier beasts rising up from beneath the desert surface.

"Well, well," I said.

"What, you two?" Caroline asked. I could tell she was surprised at the passionate welcome I'd received from Angel, but was trying to hide it. "What do you see? What's out there?"

_"_Like I said," I said, putting one arm around Angel's shoulders, "it's not me you need to worry about anymore."

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**Author's Note:** I broke up this chapter into three parts (this being part three) because I had a bunch of 3-5 page chaps and suddenly this 9 page monster. It stuck out, and I didn't like it, so I changed it. So, yeah. Love you guys!


	10. Chapter 8 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**  
Chapter Eight**

**Riddick**

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"They're breaching the hull." Caroline murmured.

I wasn't listening. I was busy with Angel, and nobody was paying us a rat's ass bit of attention, because we were in the shadows, being very quiet.

I had her on her back, and I was on top, but we weren't fucking, yet. We just kissed, our mouths moving harshly against each other as we explored each other with lips and tongues. She was soft and pliant beneath me, and I wanted to fuck her, but we didn't have time. I wanted it to last, not be a five-minute quickie while the others were busy fucking themselves over. Besides, I was a pretty great fuck, and as such, Angel, as a good lay, might not be able to take the fucking with out at least a little bit of noise.

I had my hands on her finally, though, and I could pet and caress. Her body was smooth, cool, and I had one hand on her breast, slipped under her shirt, while my other hand was cupping her cheek. My fingers slipped underneath the thin, cotton bra she wore, and touched soft, silken skin. My thumb brushed over her already taut, hard nipple, rubbing it and arousing it, making her arch against me.

"Please, Riddick-" She breathed, and then I found I could wait no longer. I had to have her, had to know the feel of that tight, hot little body as I slipped inside it and pierced that thin barrier of innocence with my monstrous desire. I had to bury myself so deep inside of her I could never get out.

My hand went to the waistband of her pants.

"Angie, Riddick! What are you guys doing over there?" Johns cried.

I swore, and Angel whimpered. I kissed her and gave her a look that said, _Later, Angel-girl. Later._

We both stood, and they didn't see us until we came out of the shadows, clothes and hair perfect as they could possibly be. Jack looked at the two of us, murmuring, "Were you guys fucking or something over there?"

That's when we heard the scrabbled of claws on the hull of the ship.

"Oh, my God." Paris murmured.

"Come on, Johns, you got the big gage. Go look." I said calmly, and while nobody was looking I put my palm flat against Angel's gorgeous ass, feeling it through her Capris. She shivered.

Johns said quietly, "How about you get your hand off my sister's ass and you go look."

My hand didn't move, and I didn't, either. Paris started to rush away, but Angel tripped him, and he went sprawling.

"You don't wanna go out there, you don't know what you're dealing with."

"And I suppose you do? You, the bitchy ex-convict's whore!"

That caught both Johns and my attention. Angel was not a whore, or even bitchy. I didn't appreciate that kind of language, but before I could do anything, Johns kicked him in the gut.

"Mike, no! Don't!" Angel shoved him back. "Leave Paris alone, Mike. Okay, Riddick, you and I, this way."

She motioned us through a hole cut in the wall, and we went in first, followed by the others. I gave Paris a considering look when he came through. All he did was complain about how much he hated this. Angel and I went on ahead, scouting out. Soon enough, we became separated.

I didn't like that very much.

"Angel!" I shouted in a very low whisper. "Angel!"

She didn't answer. I felt something wet and hot land in front of my feet. I looked down at it, then up. There it was, one of those beasts from the underground. Darklingers. I merely melted into the shadows, keeping very, very still. I would have been fine, but then one of the three Arabian kids caught the beast's attention. And I saw Angel. Her eyes were shifting between the boy, the beast, and me, and she wasn't moving an inch. She knew how to handle wild, dangerous animals. She'd learned by dealing with me for so long.

"You have extremely bad timing." I told the boy.

He caught his breath and trembled. Angel was quivering too, I could see it, but it was from the beastial urge to run and attack the beast. She might have been able to take it, actually.

I told the kid, "Just don't move."

Another one landed behind us, and the kid panicked.

He ran.

Another creature got him.

There was one right behind Angel.

Right. Behind. My. Angel.

She didn't move, she sensed it behind her. But she was in trouble. Sooner or later, whether she moved or not, it was going to go after her. She swallowed hard and looked over at me. Something clenched in my gut. I didn't want her to die, she couldn't die. I... I hadn't fucked her yet. She sighed, and the beast made its move. She dodged. One of its claws cut a length of flesh out of her leg.

She cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

I made my move.

I ran.

I ran to her, scooped her up in my arms, and bolted. I knew I could carry her for a long while, and I knew a long while wasn't going to be very long. We were down one corridor, going up another, when pain flashed in my head, fragmenting my skull so that I threw myself out of the blind, migraine causing light and let them shoot at the thing till it was dead.

Angel was lying on my chest, bleeding, and I had my arms around her, holding her close. Those bastards from a child's nightmares were no fucking way gonna take her from me.

When we stood, I had to hold Angel up, supporting her. She knelt down while the others were playing with the darklinger's corpse. I watched her as she allowed her quills to expand, fluff away from her leg and fluff out.

"Riddick, hold your hands cupped under the stingers."

I did as she said, and she began stroking the quill from base to tip. It was almost like how I imagined she fd be stroking me when the time finally came. By stroking the quills, she was causing them to create more bufotoxin and venom. That stuff, poisonous and probably deadly if in the bloodstream, was pooling in my hands. When she stopped, she then dipped her fingers in the yellow-white poison and spread it on her wound. Almost immediately, it hardened into a amber colored shell of hard... stuff. Soon, I couldn ft even smell her blood anymore. Which means that neither could the monsters. She was okay now.

I looked around. Nobody was looking, so I quickly cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.

gDon ft scare me like that again. h

"Come on, let's go. We're going... Angel? Riddick? Where are you guys?"

I scooped her up again and we emerged back into the light. Jack was looking at us with an amused, sly grin on her face.

"Oh, there you are."

The three of us spaced out after that, until we heard Johns yelling.

"Why don't you just shut your fucking mouth for two seconds! Fuck. Let me come up with a fucking plan that don't involve mass suicide."

"How much do you weigh, Johns?"

"What does it matter, Caroline?" He asked the blond woman.

"He weighs 79 kilos." Angel said. "79 kilos of gutless white meat!"

"Keep your goddamn mouth shut! You obnoxious, fat cow! Where are you going?"

Angel, having been set down beside Jack, glanced up at me sharply. Her brother had a gun to my throat and I had a knife to his cock and balls. He looked down when I glanced below his belt.

"Fine. Whatever."

He sat back.

"Look, Mike, Carrie is right. We have enough light here and in the crash wreckage to get back to the settlement, load the cells into the skiff, and get our asses out of here."

Johns gave her a look of pure contempt. He was pissed that she wasn't taking his side, and having Johns pissed at Angel was not a good thing. Anger meant tension, and tension meant disconnection of the group mind. I'd seen that happen between those two, and usually they ended up getting hurt because of it. Well, I'd watch Angel's back. And while I was at it, who'd blame me if I kept an eye on her tight little ass? I didn't say anything about Johns.

"Are you sure you can get us back there? Even in the dark?" Imam, the Holy Man, asked the blond. She looked at each of their faces, then at me. I groaned as I stretched out, then sat down. Caroline murmured, "Give me just a few minutes. Say five. Maybe less."

While she was thinking, Angel crawled over to me and put her head down on my knee, her hand on the other knee, just like she'd done when she was a girl. I stroked her hair, as I'd done then, holding her hand, and bounced my knee a bit. She began relaxing after that. Long-ago memories made her smile softly. I smiled because Johns was watching, looking down right livid.

"No," Caroline said finally. "I can't get you there in the dark. But those two can."

I looked up at her in surprise. Was she talking about Angel and me?

"The shine on your eyes, Riddick, can give us a lot, and from what I've noticed about Angie, what you can't see, she can. If you, for some reason, don't sense one of those things behind us, or one is hiding behind something, you know, her innate warning system will help."

"That's not all, though." Johns said. Everyone turned to look at him. Angel tensed up under my hands again. "My sister has spliced vision, and I mean spliced in a lot of ways. Her eyes are sharper than a human's, and she can do that cat thing, dilating her pupils and stuff. She has the eyes of a cat and a hawk. Those are the main DNA patterns. But when I say spliced, I mean really spliced. She also has double vision, like Riddick there."

"What's that mean? Riddick's got a shine job-" Jack said.

"But he can also perceive things normally. Angie can do that, but she also sees the world, the entire universe, her environment, in psychic perception. She sees everything, light or dark, hidden or unhidden, and if she wanted to, she would be able to know everything. My sister's a freak."

"Got that bloody right," Paris murmured.

I looked at him, and he fell silent.

"You shouldn't say things like that, Paris. You, either, Johns, she's your fucking sister for crying out loud."

Caroline was angry. Why was Miss Caroline Fry angry? I inhaled deeply, pushing past Angel's glorious smell, the scent of the girl and her blood, the men, and concentrated on Caroline. Her scent wasn't entirely human. But mostly. So... she was spliced. She had spliced animal DNA. Just a bit, but enough. She had rattlesnake DNA, and eagle. Most pilots were indeed spliced humans, because certain animal splicing improved their reflexes and their vision, making for better pilots. And as a child, she'd been made fun of for it, I expected, so she was protective now of Angel.

"I can say whatever the fuck I want about my backstabbing whore of a baby sister, Caroline."

I interjected with a quiet "hmph."

Johns looked at me, snarling, "You gonna say something, Richie? Huh? Say something-"

"Mike, shut the fuck up, and leave Riddick and Carrie alone." Angel's head didn't move from my knee, but she was trembling with anger and sadness.

"Angie, don't you fucking start with me!"

"This solves nothing." Imam murmured firmly. What was with that guy? Didn't he ever get mad? But we all calmed down. Except myself, of course. I was always calm. Even when I killed.

"Personally, um... I think the fact that she can do that stuff is pretty cool." Jack said.

Angel flashed her a dazzling smile, and Jack blushed and ducked her head. The Arab kid was jabbering excitedly, and he crawled over to Angel and hugged her around the waist. She laughed nervously and patted him on the back.

"He says you are an angel sent by God, to protect us. He says that you must be an incarnation of Gabriel, the Angel of Light, and that Michael, the Angel of Fire and Darkness, follows in your wake to protect us." Imam smiled at the two of us.

They weren't talking about me when they said Michael, were they? Hahahaha, yeah right. Probably talking about Johns, the blue-eyed devil.

Angel gave Imam a confused look and then put her head back on my knee.

"Alright, we have enough light to do all this, but perhaps we can get a little more. Angie, did you see anything... useable?"

She nodded.

"The glow-string things in the walls and hanging from the ceilings in the wreck. Spirits. And jelly fish oil."

"Spirits!" Paris cried, exultant. "Anything over 45 proof burns rather well. Ten bottles, at least, I believe. And Miss Johns has her own, don't you?"

"Yes, Greek Fire. Love that stuff, knocks me flat on my ass when I need to sleep. Absinthe. Also knocks me flat on my ass."

I gave her a sardonic smirk.

"Angel-girl, you drink? Tsk, tsk."

"Shut up, Riddick."

Johns got her attention, snapping, "Where the fuck are we gonna get jelly fish oil?"

Angel flipped him off and looked at Caroline.

"Riddick and I will get the oil. The JF oil glows at about thirty to fifty watts, depending on how fresh it is, and silver scale oil burns pretty easy, and lasts a long time. The smell's pretty disgusting, too, works kinda like bug spray." She looked up at me and shivered. I lifted up her hand. It looked like I was inspecting it, but I was actually smelling it, trying to catch any clues to her thoughts from her scent. She was nervous again, and slightly aroused. What was she thinking of?

"Okay. Let's go." Caroline ordered. We got moving.

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**Author's Note:** Just messed with the grammar and formatted the chapter. Now, I realized that by definition, Angel's a Mary-Sue, but from the positive turnout for this fic, I figure I'm pulling her off without true Mary-Sue-ness, so why mess with a good thing, eh?


	11. Chapter 9 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**  
Chapter Nine**

**Riddick**

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We were on the move, walking bunched around Caroline and Paris, who had the cutting torch and the flashlight. When we got to the entrance to the wreckage, we stopped. Angel, not expecting Johns' abrupt halt of movement, jerked back and would've fallen if I hadn't put my hands on her shoulders to steady her. I took that opportunity to pull her back against me, feeling her oh, so soft body pressed against my hard frame. Angel only went to my shoulders, and I could tuck her underneath my chin if I wanted.

But I didn't.

I bent my head to her neck, latching my mouth onto the soft skin, and suckled gently, enjoying the taste of her flesh under my tongue. If I bit her now, just so, her blood would spray into my mouth and run down my throat. That sweet, coppery taste. But I didn't want to bite her. At least, not now. I wanted to taste her, that was all. Taste the salt on her skin. Taste the feminine pheromones that now misted off of her body. She tasted so good, and all I'd had was a mouthful. Damn.

"Riddick...." She breathed, then sighed ever so softly when my cock pressed against her back.

I knew what she was thinking. This was going too far for the situation. We had a job to do. We could fuck around later. I backed up about three or four inches, so as not to touch her, but I kept my hands on her shoulders.

"Riddick!" Caroline's loud whisper broke the moment, and she beckoned both Angel and me forward. "Do you see anything?"

I lifted up my goggles and looked around. I didn't see anything at all.

"Looks clear." I said.

Angel drew a sharp breath.

"It's not," she whispered.

"What d'ya mean, 'it's not?' I don't see anything."

"Neither do I."

"Then why do you say-"

At that, we all heard a shrill cry, and one of the creatures flew out of the darkness, swooped over us, and away. Angel was sheltered halfway under my body and everyone was down as well. We all stood up.

"You said it was clear!" Johns shouted.

Angel made a soft hissing noise at him. "He said it looks clear."

"How does it look now, you little brat?"

She looked over at me, and I checked it again. I didn't see anything.

"Looks clear." I said, shrugging. Johns gave a yell of frustration, but Angel merely smiled as I helped her to her feet. "I swear, I will never fucking doubt you again, Angel."

"Good." She said indignantly, and flounced into the ship. I followed her in.

"Okay, I'll be about ten paces ahead. I want light on my back, but not in my eyes. Got it?" I asked Caroline as we were walking around, inspecting everyone's progress. I saw Jack, the girl masquerading as a boy. I smelled her blood. Was she cut, or was she just bleeding? Cut, I realized, when I saw her wince as Johns clapped her on the back. "And watch your cuts. These bad boys know our blood now." I saw her look up at me, then away. She knew, or at least suspected, that I was talking mostly to her. If she could have done anything, I would have had Angel look at her, see if she could seal the wound, but Angel's venom was poisonous in some way to everyone but herself. It wouldn't have worked.

"Where's Angel? She's not with Paris; she gave him her liquor already. What's she doing?" Caroline asked me.

"She's waiting for me to help her milk the jelly fish."

"Why can't Johns or someone else do it, why is she waiting for you?"

"It's an intimate process, getting those shoulder spines of hers to offer up jelly fish oil. And she doesn't like being obvious about being a non-total organic."

"The jelly fish oil... where does it come from?"

"The marine spines on her shoulders and down her back. She has scales from silver-fin fish on her inner arms, around the elbows, and if you pull the scales, the wound secretes silver scale oil."

"She wants you to help her with that?"

"You sound surprised, maybe even skeptical. Why? Because I'm a murderer?"

Caroline nodded as we walked towards where Angel was waiting.

"I've know that girl since she was five years old. She's in her fifties now. Doesn't look like it, huh? That's what happens to non-total organic humans, no matter what kind, they live a very long time. Johns is in his eighties. But, in all the long years I've known Angel, I've never harmed her. Not once. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see to my lady." I smirked and walked into the room, shutting the door behind me.

Angel didn't turn around when she heard the lock snick into place. I didn't want us to be interrupted. She knew that. I watched her pull off her sweater-shirt, throw it aside. I looked at her lovely expanse of porcelain skin, traced every ridge from either protruding bones or poisonous spines, reveling in the softness of her back. She wore nothing under that shirt, nothing, and if I wanted, I could reach around to cup her breasts in my palms.

But I didn't want to. I just wanted to touch her.

My hands went to her thin shoulders and I pressed my face against her hair, inhaling. Damn, but I could not get over how sexy she smelled, especially right now. I kissed the side of her neck, leaving a trail of wet little kisses up her neck to her face. She turned towards me, and our lips met. With one kiss, I set that girl on fire, glorious, passionate fire, and she turned to me fully, pressing her half-naked body against mine. I ran my fingertips up and down her spine, felt as every barb stood up along the contours of her shoulder blades. I broke away from her. We couldn't waste the oil.

Picking up a bottle, I touched my finger to the quill closest to her spine, and amber drops of sweet smelling oil beaded up on her skin. I watched the droplets collect in the bottles she'd brought with her, filling each bottle until we nearly ran out. I decided that we could get the scale stuff later. We had twenty minutes, her and I, to get it up. I wasn't gonna waste our time.

I spun her around, turned her to face me, and we kissed. I forced my tongue into her mouth, exploring her. Her arms were around me, my arms around her, and then we were on the floor, kissing and rubbing against each other. I trailed kisses from her soft, luscious mouth down her neck, over her collarbone. I nipped at the vulnerable swell of her milk-white breast before my hot mouth closed over the rosy bud of flesh at its peak. She cried out, arching her back.

"Riddick, oh Riddick...."

I switched to her other breast, tugging at her nipple with my teeth, soothing the ache it caused with my tongue. She made a soft moan of pleasure, and heat flooded my veins. I left her breasts to nuzzle her flat stomach. She was tense, very tense, trying to stifle her cries, her pleas for more. I moved up again to hover over her, looking into her wide eyes.

"Are you scared of me, Angel?"

"No."

Her denial was soft, hesitant, but rang with sincerity. I rolled over, pulling her with me so that she was straddling my waist. "I care about you, Riddick. I care about you a great deal." I hesitated for a second. I was glad she hadn't said love, because I couldn't have returned that love. I wasn't in love with her. Sure, I liked her, but I didn't love her. I just wanted to fuck her. She was very lovely.

"Riddick, I-"

"Don't say love. Whatever you do, Angel, don't say love."

She nodded and brushed against my cock. I forgot how to breathe. Shit. I desperately wanted to fuck her. Desperately. She brushed against me again. Bloody hell.

"Are you ready for this, Angel? I can take you right now, leave you screaming for more. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Are you a virgin?"

_Please say no_, I silently begged her, I_ can't wait that long._

She nodded. Shit. It was no go, then. If I fucked her now, the scent of her virginal blood would attract those motherfuckers like catnip would a lion.

"Get off."

"But, Riddick-"

"If I do this now, if I let myself have you now, the scent of your blood will have them after you the entire trip to the settlement."

"And you just thought of this?" She sounded a bit put out. I would, too, if I'd been her. But when I shrugged, her face went soft. "Okay. Where's my shirt?"

"You need to wear a bra, and put on some more clothes."

She got up off of me and went to grab her shirt. I suddenly saw what was lying next to her feet. Her knapsack. She pulled out a tight cotton tank shirt and a leather tank top. She pulled out her boots, the thin-legged ones she used for assignments. She pulled out her black cotton yoga pants, that fit tight to her shapely legs and hot, little ass. She flashed me a smile.

Before I realized what had happened, she was naked, showing off her pale, strange body to me in the glow of the JF. I saw the poisonous spines that flared out briefly from her ankles, wrists, and shoulders. I saw the eyes that glow neon violet in the dark. I saw her full, round, succulent breasts bare in the bluish glow of the oil, so tantalizing. Her narrow ribcage, her slender waist and hips, her beautiful legs. I saw her fully revealed to me for the first time, and she was magnificent. I had the worst hard-on in the history of man fucking kind.

She put on her clothes slowly, letting me watch and admire her. First her under things, then her leather tank and ribbed cotton tank. After that, she put on a thin, leather corset and her filmy, ivory sweater. Her pants came next, tucked into her boots. She was dressed. Damn!

"Come on, let's go," she murmured, smiling. I shook my head and drew her back to me. "Riddick?"

I put my lips to hers and kissed her gently. Maybe I did love her. Maybe. But whether I did or not, I would leave her here if I had to. I swore that even as I pressed her close, kissing her with tenderness I never knew I had. Maybe I loved her. But I might still have to kill her. That would be me, not sadistic as I could be when I felt like it, but me at my most masochistic. I prepared myself, even as I kissed her and held her so desperately in my arms, I prepared myself for the possibility that I might kill my violet-eyed Angel-girl.

.

"We stay together, keep the light burning. That's all we need to do to live through this," Caroline said. I liked Caroline. She had a strong survival instinct, something I admired in a woman. "Riddick, Angel. The two of you, up front. Go."

We slipped ahead of everyone, starting off walking, then jogging. We ran for about twenty, thirty minutes without incident. Throughout that half-hour, I analyzed my feelings for Angel Johns.

Did I love her? Well, I had when she was a kid. But that was brotherly love, the love of a man for a human being he adored to the point of obsession, nearly. When she'd been taken from me, I'd loved her all the same, and thought about my violet-eyed angel every day. And when she had come back, after almost twenty years, she'd been a woman. A beautiful, delectable, sensual, erotic woman whom I cared for still, seeing in that delicious lay the child I'd loved so well. I loved the memory of Angel as a little girl, practically my shadow. But did I love Angel, the woman?

I thought so. I really thought so, but I wasn't sure. I loved her body, surely, and I loved her attitude. Did I love her? Did I _love_ her? What a question. I wasn't sure, but I thought so.

I heard Caroline shout the kid's name. Whipping around, I saw a flyer go for the kid. Angel shouted out a warning. Damn it, she was so busy looking out for Jack, she didn't think about the fuckers that were coming after her. I saw Imam leap to shield the kid, and Paris went scuttling away from them into the darkness, murmuring, "This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening." Johns was shooting at the things, but I was looking for Angel.

I couldn't see her.

Anywhere.

Panic gripped my heart, making it pound in my chest.

"Paris, get back here now!"

The moron knocked over the generator, cutting the power to the glow cables. I didn't care. I could see in the dark, and I could get there without any fucking problems. Where the goddamn fuck was Angel? I saw the beasts go for Paris, and kept looking for Angel. The others lit torches from the bottles of liquor, but still, I looked for Angel. Where was she? Where the fuck _was_ she? Oh, dear, sweet God, where was Angel? I looked around, frantic, turning to scan all around me.

"Angie? Angie, where are you? Riddick, where...." He trailed off, seeing the stricken look on my face.

I shouted, "Angel! Angel! Angel, goddamn it, answer me! Angel! Where are you? Answer me. Where are you? Angel? ANGEL!?!?" I made to run into the darkness. "Angel!"

Imam and Johns both grabbed me, shouting, "No! No!"

"Let go of me, you motherfuckers! Where is she? Angel!!!" We had time to look for her, to see if she was all right! I mean, she was a tough girl, she was still alive, and we had to find her! "Angel!" Johns locked his arms around me as I struggled. There were tears in his voice. Why was he crying, she was still alive! She had to be, I knew she was, and we had time to get her! "Angel!"

"Riddick, she's gone! She's gone, she's dead, they got her! She's gone." He whispered.

"Fuck you! Angel!" Darkness, that was all. Just darkness and silence were my answer. Oh, God. She was gone. She was gone! "Angel! Angel, don't do this! Angel!"

gShe fs gone, Mr. Riddick, passed on! They have taken her, there is nothing else we can do for her now! h

I stopped struggling, suddenly realizing the futility of it all. She was gone, she was dead. Nothing I did would bring her back, now. But if she was dead, none of these other fuckers deserved to live. Never mind they hadn't killed her, they weren't gonna get off this rock while she was stuck here as a corpse. A beautiful, golden-haired, violet-eyed corpse. They were all going to die.

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**Author's Note:** Just messed with the grammar and formatted the chapter. Now, I realized that by definition, Angel's a Mary-Sue, but from the positive turnout for this fic, I figure I'm pulling her off without true Mary-Sue-ness, so why mess with a good thing, eh?


	12. Chapter 10 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**  
Chapter Ten**

**Angel and Riddick**

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Before I could even think to scream, something wicked sharp pierced my shoulder, right beneath my jellyfish spines. I sucked in air to shriek, and the stabbing sharpness hauled me back into the tenebrous dark. My mouth wide, Riddick's name surged up in my throat and tried to rip out of my mouth. The prehistoric beasts that had me in their grip slammed me to the dust in the dark. Air exploded out of my lungs.

Something lunged toward me. I didn't try to catch a glimpse of it. That would've been pointless. What I did try to do was scream Riddick's name as I swung one leg towards the monster intent on eviscerating me. My leg spines slashed across leather flesh and something chattered and screamed in the dark.

I didn't try to get to my feet. I needed to be on my butt to use my quills the right way. When something else darted forward, I slashed again with my spines. Something caught me in the throat when I tried to scream again. The startled cry beside me told it was Paris, that idiot. He crawled past me. I didn't have time to stop him before something small and squeaky took a snipping bite out of my ear. With a frustrated scream tinged with pain, I grabbed the thing and wrenched its little head off. Without a second thought I hurled it into the air.

A flyer slammed into the ground beside me. I whirled and ducked before its biting beak could get a grip on anything but a lock of my hair. A sharp pain in my scalp told me I'd lost some hair. A trickle of blood rolled down my forehead and the screaming beasts hissed and attacked... each other.

I was too small, and they were too many. They couldn't get to me because they all tried and so they attacked each other. When one of the little flyers sank fang into one of my fingers, I wrenched it off without thinking and screamed as my pinkie finger wrenched sideways with a sharp _crack_!

"Little fuckers!"

"Angel!"

Against my will, my head jerked around at the sound of Riddick's shout. He was practically shrieking my name. The light of the group extinguished, I couldn't figure out where they were. Then, suddenly, a green blaze exploded in the night: my brother's flare. I could see them, and I could get to them.

"Mister Riddick, no!"

That was Imam. What was Riddick trying to do? What was he doing? Would he hurt the others if he thought I was dead? Before I could give it anymore thought, the flapper I held sank its teeth into my wrist, right over the knob of bone. Immediately, my hand went numb and I dropped it. But before it could flutter away, I slapped it with my good hand and it hit the earth with a dull thump. I smashed it with my sandal.

Then, ignoring the beasts and my sweater, I flared my shoulder spines and let my oil glow as brightly as I could. I was maybe thirty watts, but it was enough to keep most of the fuckers off of my back.

I ran.

I was maybe twenty, thirty feet away from the group when a flyer hit the ground in front of me and butted me with its dense skull, knocking me to the ground. My flared spines broke off with a series of brittle cracking sounds. I screamed, but even I couldn't hear myself over the shrieking chattering of the monsters. The earth beneath me rumbled. The herd of them was coming. I had to get inside the circle of the flare before they reached me or I was dead.

The hungry flyer lunged for me.

I let rage and pain fuel me as I shrieked in defiance and rolled in the dust, heading to the left. Jumping to my feet, I raced around the monster and leapt onto the thing's back and dug my quills into its flanks. It squealed in pain. Good. I flared up my broken shoulder spines and glowed for all I was worth as the monster leapt into the air. It tried to fly away from the light, but I dug in with my left leg, directing it back with the agony of my spines in its flesh. It shrieked and bucked, but I held on. When it reached its head around to bite me, I sank my teeth into its neck until I tasted a sour, thick sludge that must have been blood or maybe spinal fluid.

There was no chance in hell I was going to let these fucking things eat me. Riddick and the others needed me. I was going to kick these dinosaur asses if it was the last thing I did! I was not going to die on this stupid rock!

Not Angel Johns. Not me.

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"Angel..."

I whispered her name into the darkness, a barely audible plea. Maybe she would hear me. Maybe, out there in the pitch black darkness surrounding us all, she would hear and come back to us. If there was a slight chance of that, then it had to be taken. Her hearing was better by far than a regular human's. Maybe she would hear me, and she'd come back.

But I got no answer.

As the weight of Angel's disappearance - her death, you shit, I snarled at myself, just fucking say it, her fucking death - I turned my murderous gaze onto the others, Johns the blue-eyed-devil and Captain Caroline, Jack and the other kid, then to the Holy Man. They were all dead, if I had anything to say about it. They were all fucked.

I fingered the shiv in my hand, advancing on Johns.

Suddenly, I heard the beating of wings. The bastards were coming back to get some more. Johns loaded his gun and started to take aim. But there was something odd about those wings. They were frantic, not rhythmical at all. Not like how they normally flew. I looked up. I saw a flyer. On its back... was Angel.

Johns cocked his gun, ready to fire. But he might hit Angel!

"Don't shoot it! Trust me!"

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Do as he says, Mike!"

That idiot Johns nearly dropped the big gauge he was so surprised, when Angel leapt from the thing's back to land between the two of us. She grinned at her brother - I could tell it was pretty forced, her expression twisted with pain - as the flyer overhead screamed in pain and fell to the ground, dead. It was bleeding from a dozen puncture wounds on each side of its body. Holy shit. She'd poisoned the damn thing.

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Finally, the carnivorous beast dropped in an exhausted, poisoned heap right into the light of the flare. Overhead, the flyers shrieked in outrage that they weren't going to get to eat me tonight.

Then I turned to Riddick, and all the pain surged up in my body, making me shudder. I'd have bruises for a long, long time. My pinkie was broken, a lock of my hair had been torn out, and my shoulder spines were cracked and mostly broken. My leg quills throbbed from the onslaught of the creature's blood, which I was pretty sure was poisonous. The inside of my mouth tingled unpleasantly, but that was the extent of it. Still, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.

Riddick looked about the same.

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Then Angel turned to me, and her face went soft. She took a few steps, hesitated, and then flung herself at me to hold me.

"I'm so, so sorry I frightened you like that, Rid, truly."

I didn't say anything, just crushed her to my chest and then shoved her away. I couldn't have my hands on her now, not after how... how scared I'd been for her. I could admit it, if only to myself. That blond idiot had scared the living shit outta me. I needed to feel her beneath me, needed to hold her trembling, naked body in my arms to know she was all right.

Eventually, we started to move again, but this time in a circle. I needed time to think.

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**Author's Note:** So this chapter has an all-new, never before seen scene in it. What did you oldsters think? How about you new guys? Reviews rock my awesome possum socks. Thanks much!


	13. Chapter 11 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**  
Chapter Eleven**

**Riddick**

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Eventually, we started to move again, but this time in a circle. I needed time to think.

"Want to tell me what the hell's going on?" Johns snapped when they found out I'd led them in a circle. I murmured,

"Shut up."

"Riddick, why did you circle us? What's wrong?" Angel whispered in my ear, low and soft, worried. "I don't sense anything, really. What is it?"

"Do you know how close we are?" Imam snapped at me. It was the first time I'd heard him use that kind of voice. I merely replied, "Listen," but he continued with, "Do you even know where we're going?!"

"Listen!"

When Angel inhaled sharply, I knew she'd heard the cooing, yowling cries of the creatures and how they echoed.

"Canyon's up ahead. I circled once to give myself some time to think. Angel, do you think anyone knows why it'd be a bad idea to go in there?"

She nodded, glancing at the girl, Jack, then looked over her shoulders.

"Angel?"

"Angie, what is it?" Johns snapped.

"Nothing."

She was lying. She was bleeding, I realized. One of those things had, in the fight in the air, snapped of some of the jellyfish spines on her back, and scratched her. They were bleeding badly.

"We should go on through." Imam said, sounding firm. I didn't hear even a slight tremor of fear in his voice. He was brave. Must have had something to do with his faith in Allah.

"I wouldn't advise it. That's death row up there. Especially with the girl bleeding like she is." I said, without even thinking. I had forgotten they didn't know anything about Jack being a girl.

I heard Johns say, "What are you talking about, neither one of them are cut!" I shook my head at Johns' total stupidity.

"Yeah, Johns, Angel's hurt, but not her. Not Caroline. Her." I pointed at Jack, and everyone turned to look at her.

"You have got to be shitting me." Johns said with a bit of anger.

Jack looked around at all of us. Seeing Angel smile at her in understanding, she nearly broke into tears.

"I thought it would be better if everyone thought I was a guy, I thought they wouldn't mess with me, and that they wouldn't always be testing me!"

Caroline went to her side, murmuring soothingly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Sweetheart. Are you really bleeding?" She nodded. Imam came over to Angel and me. When he put his hand on her shoulder, she winced and stiffened.

"How long have you two known about this?"

"I smelled it back when we were getting the lights together. She's got a slice on her back from the crash. Don't ask me why I didn't notice it before. They've had a nose open for her ever since we left the ship."

Imam turned to Angel, who slipped into my grasp. She pressed her face against my chest, inhaling my scent.

"I knew because Riddick carries a faint whiff of everyone he's around. I smelled her blood on him. When Jack was moving, blood was misting from that cut, and some of it hit Riddick. He's the only one I let that close to me, besides my brother. I knew before we left."

Imam nodded.

"While I was dealing with those fuckers up in the air, I had one of them snap of some of my marine appendages. They're bleeding, too, but it's not that big of a deal. I can take care of myself. As for what we should do right now, as far as the canyon goes, I think we should go through the bone yard, and depending on who's left, then decide how to get through the canyon." Her voice was cold and detached, even as she was hot and sensual in my arms.

When Imam turned away from us, she pressed her body against me.

As everyone was discussing what happened, and what to do, I let the shadows envelop us enough to hide us from sight. We kissed, that was all, and briefly, but it was enough. Just brushes of her lips against mine, the faint touch of my mouth on hers. We were chaste, but passionate. I could sense the burning need in her, even in the midst of this slaughter, the desire to be claimed. I would claim her, like the beast I was, like the raging animal. Soon, I would feel her tight little body beneath and around me, and I would take her.

I would make her burn.

"Come on, let's go. Riddick, I wanna talk to you. Where are you?" Johns snapped.

Angel and I emerged from the shadows and I went and took my place up ahead. Angel went back to be with the other girls, and Johns came up to be with me. I heard Angel whisper softly to me, "Keep your mind open." If Johns was planning anything, she wanted to know. I listened distractedly to the conversation Angel and the other two women held.

"What do you guys do every time you disappear?" Caroline asked.

"Do you guys screw like a couple of horny teenage rabbits?" Jack asked eagerly.

Imam gave her a startled look, and Caroline and Angel both laughed. How had she known, I wondered, how I'd described Angel and myself only a little while ago?

Angel shook her head.

"No. I'm still a virgin, and we're gonna wait for the horny teenage rabbit fuck-fest until we get off this rock. Why?"

I didn't pay attention to what Jack replied, because at that moment, Johns started talking. And I didn't like the fact that, a) he was depriving me of my entertainment, and b) was talking to me about murdering one of the girls. I liked those girls. Angel was, well, my angel, and Jack was my groupie. And Caroline... unlike Jack, whose kindness was attributed to teen fascination with a psychotic killer, not to mention the cute, innocent love for all humans, not just the good ones, and unlike Angel, who loved me and had grown up with me, and had gotten to know me, Caroline was kind to me because I was a human being. Even though I was a murderer, to her I was still human. Imam was kind to me, too, but it was different. He did it because he was a good Muslim, who believed in God's love, as opposed to a woman who treated me with dignity because I'd proven I deserved it.

"Hang on a sec, Riddick. We need to give them something to chew on, you know. I say we give them some bait. Battlefield doctors decide who lives or dies, and it's called triage."

"Kept calling it murder when I did it."

"I just figured it was something besides my sister's ass to grab on to."

"Your sister has a nice ass, you know that, Johns. You've fucked her enough times."

"I say we drag the body fifty to sixty feet behind us," he replied, ignoring my accusation. I'd thought that, since John had a thing about violating her, he would've tried vanilla flavors on her at least once. That's why I hadn't known she was a virgin.

"Nice embellishment."

"I don't wanna feed 'em, I just wanna keep 'em off our asses. So let's cut to the chase, eh?"

I heard Angel whisper ever so softly to the others, "Get back a little, you lot. Riddick's gonna do me a huge favor in a minute. You all back up, stay back by at least twenty paces, and don't go anywhere."

Angel jogged up behind us. "Hey. How are we gonna do this, Mike?"

"Yeah, which one's caught your eye?" I asked quietly. I turned back to regard the four others.

"Don't look back at them! Christ, what's the matter with you?"

I was giving them a warning to back up, and I do believe that Caroline caught it.

"Enough of this shit. Here's the deal, Angie. Riddick, you do the girl, and I'll keep the others off your back." My girl and I exchanged a glance. Angel knew what I would say, what I would do. She wouldn't stop me, either. "Not too big of a job for you is it?"

"Nope. Not for me. I just figured... maybe we need a bigger piece of bait." I motioned Angel away, but she shook her head. I went for Johns. I didn't even think, I knew and did what I had to do. I knocked the flare from his hand, fought to hamper him from firing the goddamn big gage gun.

"One rule. Stay in the light."

"Remember that moment, Michael. I love you, I do, but I love Riddick more."

I froze.

"And he'd never hurt me. You would. So, goodbye, Big Brother."

I unfroze.

"They always go for blood."

Johns rushed at me. I dodged. The shiv flashed as I brought my arm in for the slice.

The blade hit John at the top of the back of his shoulder, running from his shoulder to the very center of his back.

"Should have never taken the chains off, Johns. You were a pretty brave fucker with them. Billy Bad-ass. Big chains. Big guns. Big, shiny badge. I told you to ghost me. You should've listened to me." I walked away as the flare died out, leaving us in total darkness. I took Angel's hand and we began to run after the others.

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"Blind spot." I whispered, trying to ignore Angel. She was quietly sobbing off by herself, tying the knots on the harness for the power cells. She hadn't wanted to let her brother die. But she'd had to. Even though she loved Johns, she had to let him die.

I was prepared to do the same for her, if it was necessary.

I just prayed it wouldn't be necessary.

"Angel?" I murmured, trying to get her attention. She sniffed, trying to dry her tears. I knew she was listening. "I'm sorry we had to do that to Johns. Don't cry for him, though. You know we had to do it."

She nodded, not looking at me.

"Did you mean it?"

She knew what I meant.

"Yes," she affirmed sadly.

I went to sit beside her and put my arm around her shoulder.

"Kiss me, Angel."

She kissed me once, gentle, loving. My hands fisted in her hair as I pressed her closer, so I could kiss her as passionately as I dared. Her lips were so very soft, and as I had since our first kiss back when she'd been unconscious, I adored the satin softness of her mouth. I kissed her hungrily, my tongue dancing with hers in a fiery tango.

We broke apart for air a few moments later.

"Imam's coming," she whispered. "He wants to pray with us."

"It is painless, Mr. Riddick." Imam said, coming up on us. I snorted with contempt, muttering, "It's pointless." He shot back, "Because you do not believe in God. But I assure you, he believes in both of you."

"You think someone can spend half of his life in the Slam, a horse bit in his mouth, and not believe? Do you think a man can start out in the trash bin of a liquor store with an umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, and not believe?"

I looked at Angel. I knew she wanted to say something.

"Do you think a girl can spend her entire life being raped and beaten, and not believe in God? Do you think that a woman can spend almost her entire life watching... watching the man she loves being tortured, yet still have the grace to be able to go to his embrace at night, and yet still not believe? You got it wrong, Imam. Riddick and I absolutely believe in God."

"Yeah, and we absolutely hate the fucker." I said, caressing Angel's cheek. There were tears running down her cheeks, but I brushed them away.

"He is with us nonetheless."

"Two of the children are already dead. How much faith do you have, Imam?" Angel asked incredulously.

"I have enough."

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**Author's Note:** Just messed with the grammar and formatted the chapter. Reviews?


	14. Chapter 12 Riddick & Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Twelve  
Riddick & Angel**

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"You ready, Angel?" I asked her, knowing she could hear me. I could hear her heartbeat, almost taste it, it was pounding so hard. Was she afraid? My perfect piece of ass, afraid?

She sighed, flexed her shoulders. The spines flared out through the rips in her shirt, fanning out like fish white peacock feathers, gleaming with oil. She flexed her calves, the poison spines lifting a little off of her skin. I'd have to watch what I did if I didn't want to be seriously fucked. Flexing her hands, her nails lengthened, unsheathing from her fingertips.

"We going through there?" She asked softly, and I could smell her fear, just like that delicious musk, that hunger for sex that I could smell on her, wafting off her body. She didn't like enclosed spaces, I suddenly remembered. How she'd managed not to claw Johns' eyes out when he put her in that cryo-unit, I didn't know. Didn't care. I really didn't want to have to deal with her phobia shit right now. Not now, we couldn't afford it.

I bit my tongue to keep from brushing her hair out of her face. It was pretty messy, real bedroom I-just-finished-a-round-of-mind-blowing-sex hair. Her breasts were heaving up and down against the tight sweater she wore with every shuddering breath she took. Would she shudder like that for me? Her fists were clenched, and she bit her lip.

"Careful, angel girl. Don't want to attract those flyboy fuckers, do we?"

She shook her head, and her golden sweet hair fell around her shoulders. Pretending I didn't have a big-as-a-shotgun hard-on, I settled the power cell harness around my shoulders and chest, made sure everyone was within hearing distance of me, and said coldly, "Move." If they didn't, if they didn't move or weren't moving fast enough or fell behind, I was not going to stop for them.

Maybe for Angel.

Maybe.

But maybe not even for her.

I remembered the pounding, sweating fear that had swamped me when I thought she'd been killed, and shrugged. Okay, so I'd probably stop for her, at least. No one else. Not a one. The bastards could keep up or not, they're choice.

"What?" Imam asked, almost sharply.

"_**MOVE!**__**"**_

And we were off.

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He moved like some jungle cat, a sleek, vicious predator gliding through the darkness, cradled all around by the light from our flashlights and candles. The light gleamed upon the sweat on his skin. His muscles coiled and bunched beneath the leather harness for the power cells as he charged like a rabid beast through the canyon. I sprinted to keep up with him.

I knew he wouldn't wait for me. I had to keep up. No matter how my legs shrieked in protest, how the air burned my throat and lungs like fire. I had to keep up with him. I kept my eyes focused on the rippling muscles of his broad back, but listened. My ears ate up the darkness, drank the night, and I knew they were out there, those predators that wanted our flesh and blood.

Keyed up as I was, I could smell all of them. I smelled lavender, that was Caroline, that sticky, sweet perfume rolling around on my tongue like some wanton lover. Jack, her blood spilling from the gash on her back. How did she keep up with us? Every movement had to hurt, but she moved like a wolf, tirelessly, never stopping. The boy, Imam's boy, something was wrong with him. I could smell pain on him, and blood. He was limping, I could hear that. Why? And Imam, who smelled of smoke and sandalwood and sand. All of them following behind me. All of them putting me between him and them, as if I could stem his fury if he chose to unleash it.

"Riddick!" I cried. "Don't… cramp…."

"Save your breath, angel! Keep running!"

A scream from behind made me stumble. I turned around even as my ankle twisted, twinged in pain, and gave out beneath me.

"Jack!" It was Caroline calling.

"Riddick!"

He didn't turn.

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**Author's Note:** Just some formatting stuff. And I don't want to have such short chapters. This was originally 2 chapters, but I didn't like it, so I made it one chapter. You like? And obviously, I don't own Riddick or anything like that. If I did, this wouldn't be fanfiction, it would just be fiction. Reviews?


	15. Chapter X Ten Things

**Ten Things**

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Okay guys. Here's what's going on.

**One**- I'm supposed to be getting married in 2 months (middle of December about) and I have things to plan. It's taking up a lot of my time. I apologize, but there it is.

**Two**- I'm desperately trying to get a job. After all, hubby can't support me and himself all by his lonesome.

**Three**- My comp is broken, so I only have computer access between5 and 11 in the morning. I can't get up at5 every day unless I go to bed at 8 or 9 the night before, and sometimes stuff comes up that prevents me from sleeping until midnight or later.

**Four**- I was out of town and unavailable on the comp for 5 days, the last day of which was this past Wednesday.

**Five**- I had inspiration for another fic in the few days beforeI went out of town, a House, MD/vampire fic called "_Suck_."

**Six**- I've been desperately struggling to get through _Eragon_ and _Eldest_ by Christopher Paolini because his 3rd book, _Brisingr_, just came out and I only have 2 weeks to read the thing.

**Seven- **I've been getting ready for Halloween.

**Eight-** I've been watchinga lot of TV: House, MD; the Mentalist;Criminal Minds; Law & Order: Criminal Intent; CSI: Las Vegas; NCIS; and Young Dracula, cutest vampire show for preteens ever.

**Nine- **I've been working on a romance novella for Harlequin-Silhouette's Nocturne Bites, and it's taken a while to get it finished. I finally got my last critique back from my Grandma on Tuesday (big romance and vampire fan). Now I just have to send it in to HS.

**Ten,**** _and most importantly_**- My grandfather died of cancer on Thursday, so I haven't really felt like writing much since then.

I'm sorry guys, but "_Violet Eyed Angel_" is on hold for a while. Not too long- a week or so more, that's it. I apologize for the delay, and I hope to punch out the next chapter soon. Until then, bare with me.

.

Loves to all my readers,

_LA Knight_


	16. Chapter 13 Riddick & Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Thirteen  
Riddick and Angel**

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I heard Angel call my name, and later I would realize that I didn't even hesitate. I just stopped, waiting for her to catch up. When she didn't, I turned, and saw what had stopped her. Her leg was twisted beneath her, and not far behind her, the kid, my little groupie, was trapped beneath a piece of debris, one of those freakish monsters trying to slam its way through to get to her. Caroline was shining a small light on it – too small to do any good. I didn't care, though. If Angel could get up, that was all I needed to wait for.

That was when Angie did something really, really stupid.

Her eyes no longer on me, but on Jack and the monster, she raised her hand to her mouth and bit down, hard. I could see dark blood welling up from where she bit and dripping down onto the sand as she sank her teeth deeper into her own flesh.

The monster stopped its attack and turned its head to look at Angel.

Caroline backed up a step. Even from where I was, I sensed the tight muscles of her shoulders and back tensing. Like a lioness, she was getting ready to pounce... or maybe to run. I wasn't sure, and at that precise moment I couldn't have cared less. I focused on Angel, blond hair turned to bloody sunset by the flickering torchlight, blood dripping from her mouth and the bitten hand she held up to the monster like an offering.

Everyone held their breath. No one but me even noticed when Iman's last kid got swiped by the monsters. The swooped in and nabbed him. He didn't even so much as shriek. Poof, he was gone, a spark of life snuffed out in the dark by the big, bad monsters.

Unable to look away from this train-wreck of suicidal proportions, I watched, incredulous, as Angel bit down harder on the meat of her palm, so that more blood oozed out onto the dirt.

I heard her whisper my name, ever so soft, "Riddick."

The darkling creature's muscles rippled, coiling tight and tighter, like a cat ready to pounce. The clicking, chittering sound that meant it was about to attack slithered through the flame-lit darkness all around us. It clacked its raptor beak at her and stepped close. That was when my Angel glanced at me from beneath her gossamer gold lashes, her violet eyes wide, and I knew she knew I couldn't just let it kill her.

It sprang.

So did I.

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My hand throbbed, like a bloody, burning beacon to that creature that was trying to tear its way through the petrified wood to Jack's tender body and devour her. I knew that Riddick might have saved her, just might, but I also knew that he _would_ save me. I knew for a fact that he would. He loved me. He just didn't _want_ to love me.

I felt it, the moment the scent of my blood carried to it. This one, I could sense, was hungry, starving, the only one desperate to brave the killing light for meat. We'd be all right, though, all of us, we would all be fine, if only Riddick… if only….

The darkling turned to me, its teeth snacking together, almost chattering, as it hissed in anticipation. It feinted towards me, first left and then to my right, testing me, seeing what - if anything - I would do to stop it from trying to kill me. The beast hissed at me again. I stilled, waiting. My heartbeat was a drum in my throat, trying to choke me. I knew the monster eying me like fresh meat could hear my throbbing pulse. I wondered if Riddick could hear it as well. The monster took another menacing step, its muscles bunching, readying to launch. Riddick would see. Riddick would come.

"Riddick…."

The monster coiled, like a serpent about to strike, the teeth double-rowed inside the raptor-like beak of a mouth bared in something like a vicious and hungry grin. The firelight of our torches turned each little tooth into a tiny knife. I sucked in a breath. Jack whimpered, but the creature paid her no mind. I was bigger, more of my blood had spilled onto the dirt, and I was immobilized. The prehistoric beast snarl-clacked at me and then....

It leapt.

I threw up my arm and squeezed my eyes shut tight, because what if I was wrong? Wrong about everything? What if I was wrong that Riddick would attack? What if he attacked and I was wrong about the fact that he would win? What if he lost to this snapping, snarling monster intent on my death? If Riddick lost, we were all dead. There was no chance any of the group would survive if my murderer was beaten by these beasts. He was the only thing between me and that creature intent on ripping me apart.

I peaked. I couldn't help it. And I saw that I was not wrong.

A flitting shadow, a rapid blurring of shine against the thick darkness, an avenging angel roaring a battle cry of death and destruction, stepped between me and the monster. I opened my eyes, lowered my arm. He deserved to be watched in all of his ferocious glory. It was the least I could do, since he was being so kind as to save me one more time from the flesh eating creature that he now grappled with.

Riddick snarled in the creature's face as his hands crushed its thin, claw-tipped forelegs in his brutal, unrelenting grip. The creature tried to snap at his face, tried to draw blood, to hurt him, but he held it far enough away, and dodged when that wicked curved beak came too close.

For a moment, a space suspended in forever, he turned and glanced at me with his shined eyes like hematite stone, stared into my own violet eyes, and grinned, that hellish, rakish, murderous grin that made my toes curl in my boots, and then his head whipped back around, and he shoved the monster back, and slashed its unprotected belly with something the shone pain-bright in his hand… the shiv he'd cut my brother with, the cut that had lured the monsters to devour him.

He slashed once, twice, three times, ragged jagged cuts that spilled the monster's steaming entrails onto the dirt and made the canyons echo with the other creatures' whooping cries high above. The savage hunger in their cries told me that as soon as our killing light had vanished into the blackness, they would be down upon the fallen one with ripping jaws, anxious for blood and fresh meat.

Riddick hissed, his black fury barely contained, "Did not know who he was fuckin' with."

And then he turned, strode to where I sat in the dust, and hauled me roughly to my feet with my good hand. Staring at me for a long, long moment with his midnight eyes lit with hematite shine in their depths, he carefully lifted my bleeding left hand to his face, closed his warm mouth over the wound, and gently began to suckle at the blood still oozing from the marks left behind by my teeth.

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If she hadn't known it before, Angel knew it now. Her blood was mine. Her body was mine. Her soul... even her beautiful, angelic, murderous soul... it too was mine. But her blood... oh, her blood. The taste of it, so warm and salt-sweet on my tongue, scorched me inside, so that I wanted to fuck her right there, who cared about those flesh eating fuckers? Fuck her… or slit her beautiful pale throat and taste more of this delicious red wine that was her blood.

Her eyes were wide, dark almost ebony violets that shot desire straight through me. One hand came up to her hair, and I yanked a fistful of it, jerked on it hard even as I sucked harder on that tiny biting wound, and she cried it out. It wasn't a cry of pain.

I pulled her forward, crushed her to me, and let her take her hand back. I leaned into the curve of her neck, right beneath her perfect ear, inhaling the clean, feminine scent of her, and whispered, "You're all mine, Angel."

She shivered, and not from the cold.

A drop of water hit my head, then another splashed onto her upturned nose. A few drops pattered the sand and the monster's corpse, and then suddenly, it was pouring rain, drenching us all.

Extinguishing the light.

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**Author's Note:** Just formatting again. Hope you new guys enjoyed the chapter, and you old veterans still managed to get some fun out of it. Reviews are the lifeblood of my creativity. Love you all!


	17. Chapter 14 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Fourteen  
Riddick**

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I laughed, a deep laugh that started in the belly and worked its way up and out of my mouth. I could see the others staring at me, as if I'd lost my mind. Only Angel didn't stare. Angel watched me closely, looking for something. I didn't know what she was looking for, but it didn't matter. Her violet eyes were glowing in the night, glittering electric violet eyes that took in the entire fucking world. Her face was drained of color, and pinched with pain as she wrapped her hand with a strip of cloth torn from Imam's turban. I'd have to remember to thank the Holy Man later, if he was still breathing.

"Riddick," Angel murmured. "How bad off are we?" She glanced back over her shoulder to see how much the others could hear. It was cute, how much she cared about them. I hoped she knew we'd probably have to leave them all behind. They were all slowing us down, even Caroline and the kid. If it came right down to it, we were home free and they were all dead.

"No more light, Angel. Those helpless little mother fuckers are dead and don't even know it yet. And no," I whispered sharply. "No, I am not going to go out of my way to save their asses. I don't save people's asses."

"What about my ass, Riddick? You've saved it plenty of times over the years. So what about my ass?" She asked. Her voice had taken on a deep, sultry purr I didn't think she was even aware of. It was doing some way bad things to my stomach, not to mention my dick.

"Your ass," I explained, "is different. It's sexy. I can tear it up. If I was feeling real kinky, I could fuck it. I can pinch it, palm it, slap it, squeeze it." I grabbed her by the upper part of her arm and yanked her against me so she could feel what this conversation was doing to me. She took a very small, shallow, gasping little breath. "Your ass is good for so many things, Angel. How can I say no to that ass? But these fuckers... well, they ain't got that tight, little ass you got, Angel. Except maybe Caroline."

Her eyes got big and shining in her face, and she drew back from me a little.

"Caroline?"

"Yeah," I replied casually, shrugging. "Caroline. She's got a tight ass too. But not as tight as yours."

"Riddick, can't we... can't we..."

"No," I answered absently, sniffing delicately at her wet hair. The rain was coming down pretty hard as everyone milled around, looking for a place to hide and plan our next move. A fat drop of water hit Angel on the nose. She squeaked and rubbed at it, making me smile. I'd never seen her do something that adorable before. "No, Angel, we can't fuck right now. We'll probably end up getting killed if we do."

"What? No! Not that! Can't we... can't we do something?"

I stared at her for a moment, and realized that if I left everyone behind, Angel might come to hate me. In fact, she probably would end up hating me very, very much if I let Jack and Caroline and Imam die. And the kid... the Holy Man's boy. Angel thought he was a cute kid. If he died, she'd kick my ass and walk out of my life forever.

As long as I got to fuck her delirious a few times first, I think I could live with that. Her leaving, I mean. Since she wouldn't be dead, there was always the chance she'd come back.

"What we can do right now," I told her, and broke away from the bubble of sexually-charged, emotionally pregnant solitude we were sharing, "is get everyone the hell out of here and find some shelter. We need to figure out what we're going to do now that the rain's come, because I seriously doubt it's going to go away and come back another day. Sound like a plan, babe?"

She stared at me this time, her eyes trusting. She smiled and nodded, and together, she and I found a place where everyone could hole up and be safe for a while. It was just a little hollow in the side of the gorge, but it would fit up to four people. Not that we needed to fit four. I wasn't cramming myself in there, and Angel was coming with me. The Holy Man's last boy had been snatched up by the flying fuckers who were trying to eat us. There were three left. Three people who would die on this desert planet with its meat eating, night loving dinosaurs.

Angel said something that made me jerk a little.

"What?" I snapped.

She shrugged and replied, "I'll stay with them while you go and bring back some lights."

Fuck. I was fucked. I was seriously fucked. There was no way, now, that I could take Angel with me. She would never come if I told her why I wanted her with me, and she wouldn't go with me unless I had a good reason why she ought to. I knew why she was staying, after all. She was almost as efficient of a killing machine as me. She could protect them. But there was no way I could take her to safety with me. If I came back for them one at a time, she'd opt to stay until last. If I knocked her out and carried her, the other three would jump me. I couldn't guarantee my safety or hers in that case.

I had to leave her behind.

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**Author's Note: **I hope you like the chapters, all you newbies. All you vets, hope it still thrills you to the core. Reviews?


	18. Chapter 15 Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Fifteen  
Angel**

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There was something, something like a midnight flame in the pitch black, something that burned in the depths of his shined eyes that practically scorched me.

It wasn't lust.

I didn't know why Riddick was staring at me that way. I have seen him stare as if I'm a poisonous spider and his booted foot is only waiting to crush me into a grease spot. He has stared as if I was Little Red Riding Hood, good enough to eat, and he was the Big Bad Wolf, waiting for an opportunity to do some munching. But never had the ruthless killer gazed at me this way, as if I were nothing but a moldering corpse rotting in a cage, being nibbled on by rats and crows. He stared at me as if he didn't recognize me.

His stubbly cheeks and shaved head and muscled arms were gleaming wet with the pouring rain, so that his skin glinted almost like metal - like his pitch black eyes - in the pale light of the one bottle-torch the group had left. His eyes, obsidian shined glass eyes like hematite stars burning white, trapped me with a sudden, strange, piercing look, a look of longing and rage and bitterness. The smile he gave me softened his expression, but only a little bit. It was a tender curl to his lips that I'd never seen before. For some reason, a slithering skitter of fear rippled up my spine. The spines on my calves flared out, an inch off the skin, and my heart skipped a beat. What had I missed? What was he thinking?

"I'm going to go get lights," Riddick's voice rumbled in his chest. The predacious killer in from of me braced his thick forearms against the entryway of the tiny cave we'd found to hide in. Everyone had their eyes fixed on the two of us, as if I could give them a clue as to what Riddick would do now. Not for the first time, it seemed that I was just as much in the dark as they were. Riddick's next words dragged me back to him as he muttered, "Take care of yourself, Angel."

"Come back, Riddick." The words tried to choke me, but I forced them out through a lump in my throat. For some reason, I couldn't really breathe. "Come back safe," I added.

I don't know what made me say that. But for some reason, I had this wicked and icy feeling creeping into my guts, a serpent clenching my belly into a terrified knot. The feeling sliding through me said that I would never see my Riddick again. And I couldn't let that happen without at least trying to tell him... something.

Anything.

The truth?

Maybe. Was it the time?

"I can take care of myself, babe," he said dryly, almost sounding like himself, but I wasn't fooled. The tall man in front of me shifted his weight. He was about to walk away, stride out into the dark and leave me forever.

Without thinking, I lunged forward and threw my arms around him. He grunted, but lowered his own arms until they were settled around my waist. We held each other in the rain and the dark. I closed my eyes against the looming night behind his back, desperate to pretend that this was not the last time, the last embrace, the last whispered words. Denial was always a game I played well. Ignoring the darkness pushing against my rain-cooled skin, I pressed my face against his sweat and rain soaked shirt, inhaling that same delicious, contradictory smell of his - blood, water, smoke, ice, metal. I let my lips brush what part of his diamond-cut pecs wasn't hidden by his muscle shirt, tasting the chill rain water and the spice of his skin. Drops of water ran down my face and into my eyes, stinging like tears. I didn't care. He palmed the back of my head, and I felt his rough cheek resting on the top of my head, felt his breath stirring warmly against my soaking wet hair.

It was sheer suicide to be standing like this. Death by hugging in the dark while being chewed up by prehistoric monsters. Suicide by stupidity. I knew that, and he knew that. For certain everyone else not wrapped up our embrace knew that. If Riddick weren't such an effective and powerful predator, we could easily be snatched by the monsters in the dark while he held me to his chest like this.

But Richard B. Riddick was the epic predator, the fell beast out of all the ancient legends. I didn't need to be afraid of the carnivorous dark when he held me to him.

I could feel his wet heartbeat pounding against my cold lips, could feel his body shudder slightly when my warm breath whispered over his wet skin. His arms tightened fractionally, the muscles coiling like a snake around me. Riddick was trembling, straining against... I didn't know what. He was fighting something - himself, his rigid control, his choices, perhaps. It didn't matter to me. It only mattered that he pushed me away less than an inch. I could still feel the scalding heat of his body. Something, some sound, escaped him, and then he brought his mouth down on mine.

Most of his kisses in the past had been dominating, savage, brutal, and devouring. But this one was not. It was sweet, gentle. Strange, considering the barely restrained desperation and rage behind his velvet mouth, the pain radiating off of him like wisps of heat. His lips were like rough silk as they brushed carefully against mine. I could taste his breath, the heady tang of alcohol and the sweetness of desperation. How desperate were we? What was wrong? Why wouldn't he tell me?

"I love you, Riddick," I whispered against his granite-hard mouth. I _had_ to say it. I would never see him again, the certainty slammed into my breast like a sledge hammer, and I had to tell him the truth at least once.

The black-eyed murderer with the grim face didn't respond, not a word. He only kissed my wet forehead before releasing me from the heat of his muscled arms. Without a word, he backed up, slowly as creeping death, never once taking his night-shined gaze away from my pale face, even as he heaved and grunted, replacing the huge slab of stone that would serve to hide us from the monsters waiting in the dark to kill and eat us all.

When I knew that he was gone, the predacious murderer who carried my soul in his hematite eyes, only then did I let the salt tears burning in the back of my eyes wash away the rain on my face. Weeping, I held onto Jack and shivered in the pitch black darkness.

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**A/N:** Formatting. And adding events and stuff. It was only 650 words, I couldn't stand the original. Blargh. Bye.


	19. Chapter 16 Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Sixteen  
Riddick**

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Goddamn her.

_God fucking damn her to fucking hell!_

I ought to just kill her. Yeah, fucking kill her. Just break her neck and have done with all the torment. How could she do that to me? How could she say those things to me? How could she fuck me over like this? She had to know what she was doing to me. It wasn't like she didn't _know_ me. It wasn't as if she didn't _know_ how her declaration would make me feel. She had to know. Yeah. Yeah, she fucking knew all right.

Damn her. Damn her to hell.

But as I staggered through the pitch dark night and the pouring rain, the icy mud caking my boots and my pants almost up to my thighs, I couldn't find enough heat to actually carry through with damning Angel to the Tartaran underworld. The rain slammed down on my skin, icy needles leeching any heat that might have gone into my cursing. Pretty soon, my fingers and even my toes in my thick, steel-toed boots were numb with cold. Only the heat of my muscles, the energy from my forced tramp through the sucking mud, kept me from freezing and probably catching a bad case of hypothermia. Only my exertions, and Angel's confession.

_I love you, Riddick._

Oh, hell. Now what was I supposed to fucking say to something like that? I'd known she'd loved me - she'd been in love with me since she was five years old, it seemed like - but she'd never said the words out loud. She'd told Johns she loved me. I mean, I was fucking standing right there. But that's not the same thing, dammit. Now she'd told me, given me tangible proof, and what the fuck was I supposed to do about it?

Readjusting the straps holding the power cells to my back, so that they didn't bite too deeply into my shoulders, I cursed myself. A lot. All I could think about was the way she'd thrown her arms around my neck, like she somehow _knew_ she was never gonna see me again. How could someone so innocent cling to a man like that, so that his balls were on fire and his heart wanted to explode inside his chest? Was that a virgin thing? And did she even count as a virgin since Johns had taken every opportunity to shove his dick up her ass? Was it a virgin thing or just an Angel Johns thing if she didn't count as an innocent? Or an Angel Johns thing even if she did? How did she always manage to get under my skin with the simplest gestures?

_Damn you, Angel girl,_ I thought. _Why are you doing this to me?_

I didn't want to leave her. I had to leave. If I tried to get all four of them - Angel, and the idiotic holy man, and Captain Caroline and my little groupie - to that dinky little crap ship in the settlement, we'd all of us end up munchy meaty food for nocturnal dinosaurs. And she wouldn't leave them, damn it! Why wouldn't she just leave them? They weren't that important in the grand scheme of things! If it were just her and me, we could've been fine. Why couldn't she just leave them behind?

I could just imagine her reaction to that. _Leave them to die, Riddick? To die, here, alone in the dark?_

Yes, Angel, leave the three of them behind to rot on this Plutonian rock from hell. Leave them to get eaten so we can get the hell out of this freakish place with all of our limbs still attached. We could even hide out and settle down some-fucking-where, Angel, if you'd just ditch those deathtrap baits and come away with me. Leave them to die. Yes, Angel.

_Even me, Riddick? Would you leave me here to die as well?_

Yes, Angel. You bet your sweet little ass I'd leave you here to die. I'd let those fat flying fuckers with the teeth eat your pretty carcass in a second if it came down to a choice between you and me. I would leave you here. Hell, why are we even having this conversation? I _am_ leaving you here. I'm not coming back, Angel. I'm not coming back for you. I'm not gonna see you again. I'm not gonna get to look into those beautiful violet eyes ever again. I'm never gonna get to kiss you again. And I'm willing to do that, because it's a life or death deal. You or me, dead or alive. I'm picking me, alive. Got it, Angel?

_Yes, Riddick. I got it._

Yeah, right. Like Angel would really be that understanding about me leaving her to die in real life. Only in my head would she be like that. In real life, she'd probably cry her eyes out and beg me to take her with me, beg me not to leave her to die on this shit planet. Hell, she might even forget the other three pieces of baggage I'd been carrying up until now.

_Do you really think that?_

The censure in her voice pissed me off. Did I think she'd forget those three if it came down to her or them? Was I that naïve? Was she that smart?

No.

No to all the above.

Where the hell was I? It was impossible to figure out distance and location with the rain coming down like it was. I knew I was on the right track – the rain hadn't washed away the scent of our passing from before. But how close was I? A quick scan, a quick sniff, a quick recollection, and I knew I was only five minutes away from the light. Five minutes from light, from safety, from freedom. Five minutes from my ticket off this rock.

Five fucking minutes away from leaving Angel behind.

Was I really gonna do this? Damn it, was I? Why shouldn't I? Why fucking shouldn't I? Huh?

The cooing, clicking cry of one of those flesh eating night creatures sounded from behind me. I dropped the power cells and whirled just in time to stop the thing from sinking its teeth into my shoulder. Fury coursed through me. These were the things that were going to attack Angel. Attack her, kill her, eat her. Take her away from me. These fucking monsters and their thing about eating people were the reason I was stuck leaving the woman who meant the most to me in the world behind on a rock floating in the middle of space.

Roaring, I snapped its grasping claws, breaking the bones in its stumpy little T-rex arms. It shrieked in pain. Good for it. Snarling, I socked it in the throat, feeling something crumble beneath my fist. Grinning, teeth bared like a rabid dog, I grabbed its head in one hand and its bottom jaw in the other. Hauling, feeling my arms and shoulders burning and straining with the effort, I pried its mouth apart... wide... wider... _wider... __**wider...**_

With a cry of agony and death, its stone-like skull cracked almost in half, and it went limp. I let its corpse slide into the oozing, sucking mud stretching out around us. Then, I picked up the harness for the power cells and kept going.

What would Angel have thought? My Angel, who could shatter windows with her screams but always ended up coughing blood, who could kick a man to death with two blows, who could gut a man with a shard of glass. What would she have thought about the way I'd butchered that thing? Would she understand why I'd done it?

I realized my hands were shaking, and bit back a curse. Fear? No. I didn't have room in me for fear, not with the rage and lust and need for survival pumping through my veins. It burned out anything that might have resembled terror, leaving only self-preservation in its fiery wake. Then what?

_Will you miss me, Riddick?_

Damn it, Angel, shut up. I know you're imaginary, but damn, give me a fucking break. Stop clawing your way to my heart with your heartbreaking voice. Stop trying to kill me with a word. My brain kept shouting this and other meaningless drivel at her imaginary voice as I slipped and slogged through almost a foot of mud. Every time I thought about the fact that every step I took put distance between me and that violet-eyed killer, my foot skidded in sludge.

_Yes, Angel, I will miss you when you're dead. I will miss you when I'm off this rock._

The words, thought swiftly and flung hurriedly into the thick blackness pressing in all around me, etched themselves like acid into my chest. God, I would fucking miss her.

But as the settlement with its little ship came into dim view through the sheets of pouring rain, I knew something else, deep in the pit of my stomach. It was something that I had known in my heart from even before my violet-eyed Angel had whispered so sweetly and softly into my ear that she loved me. Why the hell did she have to do that? Ignoring the aching memory, I allowed myself to know something, register that secret in my chest even as something akin to relief pulsed through my veins.

I would miss her, but I wasn't going to go back for her.

I loaded up the ancient skiff with the power cells and then I checked all the systems. The engine hummed and purred like a contented kitten. The thought made me smile, until I remembered that Angel sometimes purred when I played thumb-war with her nipples. Damn her, was I going to think about her the whole fucking time? I flicked on the rest of the systems on the ship, more out of frustration than anything else, and the entire little baby thrummed to mechanical, electric life. Even after all this time, the little ship was still in perfect working order.

Finally – a piece of fucking luck.

Hot damn.

I glanced up, happened to see my reflection in one of the windshield panes. I could see the bitter, hateful look on my face, twisting my expression into something even I hardly recognized. If I'd looked like that around people, they'd have run screaming. What was my problem? I couldn't just wander on back into the darkness after my favorite piece of ass. That'd be suicide. If it wasn't suicide, I'd do it. But it was, so I wasn't.

Damn her beautiful eyes. I couldn't get her electric violet gaze out of my head. It fucking burned my mind. Damn her. This was going to hurt like hell. This was going to be agony. Pure, brutal agony, leaving her on this dump-rock like this. It took everything in me not to imagine her being torn to shreds by those dinosaurs.

Dammit.

It was time to get the hell out of here.

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**Author's Note:** So, what do you think? Do you like it so far? I figured he'd do something like this. I mean, he had to kinda think about going back for Kira in _Chronicles of Riddick_, even though it didn't take anywhere near this long. I figured it was realistic to Riddick. Reviews?


	20. Chapter 17 Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Seventeen  
Angel**

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Caroline Fry was a natural leader.

Even someone as self-centered and preoccupied as I was at that moment could see that easily enough. It was obvious in the stiff set of her narrow, bruised shoulders, in the firm slash of her thin mouth, in the way her scraped, bleeding hands curled into fists, clenching tighter and tighter as the minutes ticked by like individual, miniature eternities. I knew she was the leader here, despite the assets that Riddick and I had proved to be up until now.

And I also knew why the thin, blond ship captain was so tense, even here, in the relative safety of our little cave. Her fury and determination boiled off of her like billowing clouds of steam in the chill. I could feel it, and I understood its cause.

Caroline didn't think Riddick would be coming back.

She thought that he was going to leave all of us here on this rock to die.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that he most likely had already left. I didn't even have it in me to remind myself of that fact. I tried desperately not to think about it.

_Riddick,_ I thought longingly. My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe. His slashing eyes had cut me to the bone. Even in memory, that sharp and brutal pain still burned me like acid as I remembered the way he'd looked before he'd walked away. Cold, emotionless, the black hematite gaze had burned like ice and cold stars in the darkness of space. He'd gazed at me as if I were no one and nothing. As if he didn't know, had never seen me before in his life.

As if I were not his angel.

It made me sink my teeth into the meat of my tongue, but I couldn't stop the desperate, half-hopeful thought from crossing my mind in a flash, flinging itself out through the stone into the carnivorous night waiting to devour us: _Riddick, where are you?_

Probably, people would think I was nuts, still hoping against all common sense, against all logic and instinct and hope, that Richard B. Riddick would come back for us, to save us three when trying would get him killed. He was a lone wolf, a solitary predator. My anti-hero. He didn't need any of us, so he wasn't coming back for any of us. Not Caroline, whose ass he had so admired and whom he respected because of the way she treated him. Not Imam, who had tried in his own, sweet but ineffective way to give us both comfort and camaraderie. Not even our little Jack, the young Riddick-groupie with the shaved head who'd been pretending to be a boy.

Not even me.

"The light!" Jack cried, wrenching me from my thoughts. The real world crashed down on me, hitting me back to reality like a hammer.

I jumped a little. I hadn't been paying attention. What was _wrong _with me? I was supposed to be a predator as well, although a wounded one who wouldn't last twenty minutes out there in the dark without Riddick. Scratched, lacerated, and bleeding – both physically as well as emotionally – were not a good combination when dealing with flying homicidal dinosaurs who ate people. But I was still a predator, still a fighter, a hell cat willing to slaughter to survive, and I should've been aware of my surroundings.

_Damn you, Riddick._

I saw Jack and Imam and Caroline huddling around the bottle of alcohol with its little rag torch. Our own mini-Molotov cocktail. Our little lamp, too low on oil to be of any use for much longer. How cute. But the alcohol had burned through. There wasn't much left. The flame was flickering, weakening, dying. Soon, we'd be left in the dark, and then they would come. We'd either starve to death in this cave, or the monsters would come for us.

And we would die. Eaten alive by the Darklingers. Meat for some carnivorous, no-eyed, three-horned, flying, purplish people-eaters.

Fuck that.

I let the anger come. I tried to keep my anger at bay almost all the time. It wouldn't do to lose my temper. People might get hurt. Might get shot, stabbed, poisoned, beat up. All that happy stuff that happens when a DNA-spliced human finally gets pissed off enough and does something really bad. But I was on a hostile rock of a crap planet, waiting to be devoured by carnivorous rock monsters, with a full expectation that my only way to get off of this darkness shrouded place had probably already gotten the hell out of town. Not to mention, my brother was dead and my boyfriend had left me for parts unknown.

I had to chuckle at that thought. My boyfriend? Riddick? Now there was a bizarre and incompatible concept. Riddick wasn't my boyfriend. I tried to tell myself that. If he was, I reasoned silently, he wouldn't have left me. And we'd be younger. Teenagers. Not ancient old warriors waiting to die from deranged dinosaur digestion in the dark.

So the rage came, tempered only by a tiny flash of dry, black humor. My senses sharpened, my eyes darkened, my body tensed. My teeth gleamed in the fading light of our one expiring torch. My hands crushed themselves into white-knuckled fists. Hatred and fury surged up in my veins, and I thought about the darklingers out in the night, waiting to feast on our corpses.

The flame flickered.

So did my concentration as I thought once more of the convicted killer known around the galaxy as Riddick. His pitch black gaze flashed behind my violet one, superimposing his face in my brain. He was gone. I had to accept that and move on. Snarling inwardly at my love-sick girlishness, I wrenched my focus back to the present and watched, along with the other three. Watched our little lamp try to shine valiantly on against the oncoming darkness that would no doubt try to kill us very soon.

Fire danced, fluttered, flickered, wavered.

Jack drew in a half-sobbing breath, and my heart went out to her. Imam half-whispered a prayer of desperation up to Allah to deliver us all. Caroline's feral, blue gaze was just as intent as my own violet eyes as we stared at the little light dwindling away. I knew that somewhere, out there in the midnight darkness of this ravenous planet, Riddick could see our flame in his mind's eye, knew exactly what state we were in.

Deep in my chest, my ribs cracked like a china cup under the hammer of the pieces of my heart. Pain lanced through my veins and arteries, and it was all I could do not to double over and begin screaming. That would bring the monsters, so I restrained myself. But in my mind, I could see Riddick slogging through the pouring rain, trudging further and further away from us. Ice white hate crept through me, framing the image of Riddick in frost. But I still loved him. Pathetic, huh?

The light went out.

Immediately, I tensed, coiled tight as a bow string, waiting for the first monster.

And the cavern began glowing with a pale, blue-white glow like an infant star, so soft and sweet that is was almost enough to sooth the savage beast of my anger. In the soft light coming from the walls, I saw Jack's rapturous face, Imam's amazement, Caroline's stark relief. I looked up, and saw what was making that innocent light – larvae. Probably the infant forms of the light-fearing, nocturnal carnivores waiting outside to devour our communal flesh. The little worms glowed like luminescent jewels on the mossy stones of our little cave. Sweet and bright, they made my eyes burn. Had I accepted death without realizing it? Considered it inevitable, only to be rescued by glowworms? I hoped not.

Caroline turned to me, her eyes dark and thoughtful, the feral shine now only a glint in the midnight blue. I recognized that look. I had it sometimes. So did Riddick. I'd seen it on him and in the mirror all the time. That scheming, wild look meant that Caroline Fry was thinking. It meant that she had some kind of plan. Because suddenly part of her didn't quite believe Riddick had abandoned us here, on this stinking planet bereft of sunlight and sanity.

Like an idiot school girl, part of me was starting to believe it too. Talk about stupid.

"I've got an idea," Caroline said.

How had I known?

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**Author's Note:** So I did actually add stuff to this chapter. In fact, I don't even know if I've posted this chapter previously or not. Ow, and I think I bruised my eyeball by rubbing it too much. Ouchies. Anyway, hoped you enjoyed this chapter. As you can see, we are drawing swiftly to the close of our story. If anyone wants a sequel, they'll have to send me a copy of _Dark Fury_ or something because I don't know what happens between this _Pitch Black_ and _Chronicles of Riddick_. But I could pull off a sequel. Or two. Or three. But only if the readers wanted one. What do you guys think?

Love ya lots. Reviews show me how much this love is reciprocated. Toodles!

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	21. Chapter 18 Angel

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Angel**

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Have you ever run around during the height of summer, between the thick tree trunks and beneath the cool, leafy boughs, swishing through the grass, no shoes on your feet, your jeans rolled up to mid calf, and you have Mason jars in your hands? Why would you do that? Because you're there to catch fireflies. Fireflies, those little glow bugs that buzz around and light up the night, beating back the darkness with their itsy-bitsy, neon-glowing insides.

We had something better. We had glowworms.

Caroline, Jack, and I carefully pulled the little worms off of the walls of our cavern. Imam was too broad in the shoulder to turn around and help, but we didn't really need him anyway. Worm harvesting was not something a large party could handle. Every time we so much as twitch, a worm tried to slowly inch away. The wetness of the stone made grabbing the little things difficult, and by the time we were done, all three of us girls had scraped and bleeding knuckles. We didn't even have to comment on how this was a bad thing. Inside the empty, once-useless bottles that used to house booze now rested a bunch of compacted glowworms, emitting a soft, pale blue light from behind the walls of glass. If I'd had a book, I'd have been able to read with these little makeshift lamps, they were so bright.

It was... amazing. For a few moments, I was tempted to believe Imam had the right of it: God really did exist. Well, maybe.

The plan our pissed off Captain had come up with was simple: we use the bottles as lanterns, or rather torches, and go find either the skiff - and the lights that were on it - or we find Riddick, whichever came first. None of us voiced the telepathic concern blinking like a whorehouse sign in our minds: what if Riddick had already taken the skiff and jetted off this rock, leaving us behind to get eaten by flesh-eating, light-phobic dinosaurs? None of us said it out loud, but we could all hear each other thinking it. I tried not to. As naïve as it sounded, I couldn't let myself think he'd abandoned us.

I just couldn't.

Luckily, it didn't all four of us to move the slab of stone blocking our cave. With the combined strength of Imam and Caroline, we had a wedge big enough for her and me to squiggle through without scraping ourselves up or breaking our lanterns. Beyond the gap in the stone, the rain hammered down, as if trying to wash away the blood of all our casualties. Mud tried to crawl into our sanctuary. I had no idea what that mud contained other than water and dirt, but the thought that the blood of the monsters - and perhaps, Riddick's blood - tainting the brown sludge with crimson drops and blue ichor had bile rising in my throat like a tsunami. I barely managed to swallow it down again.

"Let's go," Caroline said - commanded, rather.

And in that second, I realized that I had three choices I could make. I could be the one to establish dominance, to make myself queen bitch, to show everyone - aka Jack and Imam, as well as Caroline - that I didn't take orders from our _beloved_ captain or anyone else. I was tempted, because now I had neither Riddick nor Michael, and I didn't know whether to remain submissive or become the top dog. Or I could simply follow Caroline out into the darkness, and throw my allegiance with her. But if I found my murderous Riddick out there in the pitch blackness, what would I do then? My third choice was to pretend to follow the captain, until I found my own captain and returned to him.

"See ya soon, Jack," I told the little groupie, who nodded bravely to me and watched me stalk out into the dark, a slim spike of ivory and gold against the midnight blackness, holding my cobalt lantern high overhead to scare away the monsters.

The sound of the slab being hauled back into position hit me like an execution sentence. Not for me... but for them.

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"So, what do you see in a psychopath like Riddick anyway?" Caroline asked me as we slogged through mud up to the middle of our thighs. Somehow, we'd fallen into a sort of gully-ditch. I glanced at her, incredulous. Was she really going to talk about boys right now? Her hair, once the color of a freshly minted gold coin, now hung around her pale face in strings of drab dirty-blond. Water rolled down her face from the rain, reminiscent of tears. But who would Caroline Fry weep for, out of all of us? Jack? Imam? Not me, or Richard B. Riddick, convicted killer. She didn't have it in her to seriously care for the welfare of murderers and their girlfriends.

"What do you mean?"

I'd never understood that question, what does so-and-so see in so-and-so. What did seeing have to do with love? Physical attraction, I could understand. But any idiot could see that Riddick was hot. Chiseled features, broad shoulders, rippling muscles, trim waist, big dick, long legs, feet that could kick hard enough to break someone's jaw - he had those attributes and others in abundance.

"He's a convicted killer. How can you love someone who kills people?"

"I didn't see you stopping him from killing my brother," I told her, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in my shoulders. Holding up that bottle was harder than I'd anticipated, despite the sealant I'd poured onto the bite on my left hand that helped dilute the scent of my blood. The rain didn't hurt, either. And the burn from the snapped-off spines on my shoulders wore at me, beating down on my reserve strength. Despite the rain and the darkness, despite the chill, sweat mingled with the raindrops and heat rolled off of my body in ripples of steam. I thanked my lucky stars that my clothes, once so pristine and bright, were now splattered dark with mud and drenched with the showering water from overhead. It helped hide me from the monsters - I hoped - and kept me from overheating.

"You said he was going to kill Jack," she reminded me.

"He was," I said. "So? How can you let someone kill someone else right in front of you?" I continued, turning the words back on her and twisting them to suit my purpose. "You let Riddick kill Michael because he was going to kill Jack. How do you know the people Riddick killed didn't deserve to die? How do you know it wasn't to save another little girl?"

"Was it?" Caroline asked me.

I scoffed and shrugged my aching shoulders. Were we even going the right way? It was pitch black beyond the glow of our lanterns, so I wasn't sure where we were or whether it was the right direction. It would freaking serve us right if we missed our turn because Caroline didn't stop yammering.

"I don't know, it was before I was old enough to care, and I've never asked since. I don't know why he went to jail, only that my brother's the one who always caught him when he escaped. Now, though...." I trailed off, allowing a cold pain to grip my chest for a few moments while I considered the ramifications of my brother's death.

"What?" The blond ship captain asked, breaking into my thoughts. I wrenched myself back to reality, scanning around us for the hungry raptors crouched in the darkness. Nothing yet. No problems so far. And our little glowworms weren't even beginning to fade around the edges. Maybe, just maybe, we were going to make it out of here alive. My thoughts returned to the conversation.

"Now," I continued, "I'm not sure if there's anyone good enough to nab him and drag his ass back to prison. The odds are pretty slim. But who knows? Between the two of us, though, we should be able to keep those Merk bastards off of our asses."

"The two of you?" Caroline echoed, voice tinged with faint incredulity. "You don't think he's ditched us for parts unknown?"

"Why would he?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Wouldn't you?" She demanded, and I shook my head.

"No," I told her coldly, feeling in my gut that this was the truth. I was equipped to handle these monsters. There was no reason for me not to be able to fight them if it came down to it. Just like Riddick, I could kill them when necessary. I was poisonous, for crying out loud! I had taken out a flyer unarmed, suffering... well, suffering no life-threatening injuries. But whether anyone else - including Caroline Fry - would have made it to safety and then walked back into the killer darkness to save our shipmates when she was fully capable of getting off this rock and getting back to civilization was a question that I didn't know the answer to.

"You wouldn't?" She repeated, skeptic.

"No," I said. "Would you?"

For an extraordinarily long time, there was a pregnant silence waiting to birth some sort of condemnation or redemption, and then she whispered her answer, flinging it out into the pitch blackness all around us.

"I don't know."

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**Author's Note:** Finally, a new chapter! Sorry it's taken so long, but I had to rewatch the movie (again) and then I got married (yay! Dec. 19!). A then I got horrendously sick and then I had to start work again.

And now I'm desperately trying to make sure my boss still loves me while dealing with the fact that my in-laws gave my husband a new breathing hole because I asked him to ask them if we could borrow $10 for rent money since my schedule got messed up.

Okay, so I have three questions, and I NEED the answers (from more than one person).

1 - When Caroline dies, should both she and Angel die? Should Angel get nabbed by the monsters too?

2 - Or should I allow Caroline to live? Only one person has given me their opinion of this so far.

3 - Should I write a _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ sequel to this if Angel survives?

Remember, reviews make me smile! Loves to you all!


	22. Chapter 19 Angel & Riddick

**Pitch Black and Ultraviolet  
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**Chapter Nineteen  
Angel and Riddick**

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We sludged through the mud, gasping for breath now with the effort of holding our arms aloft and thrusting our legs through the thick, sucking mud. We were desperately trying not to choke on the rain. What was more likely, I wondered? Would we get eaten by flying nightmares or would we drown in mud up to our waists? When were we going to get out of this fucking gully?

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, Caroline gave a startled cry and cursed. I whirled around, trying to see what had frightened her. There was nothing but the rain pouring down and the monsters at the edges of our light.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Stubbed my fucking toe, dammit. Here, it's a way out of the gully."

I felt around for it with my foot and found it. A set of natural steps in the stonework of the gully itself led us up and out of the muddy waters onto somewhat drier land. Instead of a lake, there were only puddles a few inches deep. My feet were numb from arch to ankle because of my sandals, but I didn't say anything. We kept trudging. Every so often, we'd switch hands to keep our arms from dropping the bottle-lanterns from exhaustion. There was no more talking - she didn't have the energy.

"So you and Riddick go way back?"

Well, I'd thought she didn't have the energy. I sighed and tried to do too many things at once: focus on the enemies surrounding us, hold up my lantern with a burning shoulder, think about Riddick, and plan for what would come if he was already gone with the skiff even while my entire being balked at the idea. I was such a naïve idiot.

"He and Michael are... _were_ like Batman and the Joker without the homoerotic overtones," I managed to get out between pants for air. "My brother hunted Riddick every time he escaped prison, which was often. Others tried to track him down, as well, but only Mike managed to catch him almost every time. Once, Riddick allowed an amateur Merk to take him in, just to piss Mike off. This was before I was born, but growing up I heard about how my talented and experienced older brother was this big shot bounty hunter."

We struggled to climb over a pile of rubble and rocks while still keeping the glass bottles aloft to cast their safety-ensuring glow all around us. Caroline slipped once, getting her foot stuck between three smaller boulders. Luckily, the make-shift lantern didn't break. I got her foot un-wedged and we kept on.

"Michael introduced me to Riddick when I was seven. No one had ever explained why my brother tracked this guy, only that he had hunted him to the ends of the galaxy so many times my parents had lost count. I didn't like it. So I decided I would be Riddick's friend."

"His friend?" Caroline gasped out incredulously.

I looked around again, a cursory scan of our surroundings to make sure the hungrier monsters weren't creeping in on us without our noticing. There was nothing but our halo of safe light, the blue glow protecting us from the beasts that were intent on our deaths. Beyond that halo of light, the creatures cooed and whooped, scrambled and savaged each other. But they didn't come to us.

"I was a little kid," I reminded her acidly. "They think strange things. The fact that my brother hadn't just killed Riddick meant, to me, that he wasn't a bad guy, so why was he in... prison...."

The words died in my throat as we turned and cut around a sheer cliff. Just beyond the jagged, obsidian rocks shooting high over our heads into the darkness was the abandoned settlement... and the skiff, humming in the blackness, lit up like a beacon of hope against the nightmares pressing in on us with the night. And in the cockpit, staring at the controls with his midnight eyes glinting in the glowing lights of the dashboard....

Riddick.

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Angel.

I saw her in an instant through the rain spattered windshield of the skiff. She was drenched in rain water and mud, soaked to the skin, her sopping hair dull and stuck in thin tendrils to her face and pale throat. Her shoulders shook, and over her head she held something, something that glowed: a faint blue aura emanating outward into the pitch darkness. A trail of something dark that might have been mud - but probably wasn't - marred her cheek and temple. But it was her. She was alive, and she was standing right in front of me.

She looked pissed.

Right next to her, pretty much in the same state, holding a similar source of the ambient, cobalt light over her head, was Captain Caroline Fry.

Angel looked pissed.

Caroline looked furious.

I had a choice. I could hide like a bloodless coward and take off in the skiff, shooting off in a fiery conflagration up into the pitch blackness of space, leaving both women either barbecued to a crisp or unconscious and therefore prey to the prehistoric feeders waiting to devour them both. Or I could go out there and deal with the fact that I had smashed the lights that would allow me to go back with them and save Jack and Imam, and deal with their presence like a man.

Angel stood there in the rain, her upraised arm shaking with fatigue. There was an edge to her eyes that I had never seen before. It almost scalded me. What had happened, that she was looking at me like that? Her shoulders hunched as if she were in pain, and she cradled her left hand to her chest. What had I missed while I'd been slogging through the mud and rain?

Sighing, I scooted my chair back and lowered the boarding ramp for them.

They stopped at the edge, both pairs of feet still planted firmly in the mud, watching me. In that moment, it was almost as if they were twins or something. The same haunted, feral look in their eyes, the same drowned-rat state of their hair, the same pale bloodlessness to their skin that made them look half-dead, half-sick.

There was something here, between the two of them, that I wasn't picking up on just yet. It was really starting to fucking piss me off.

"Come on," I called to them both, even lowering myself to gesture for them to board. Neither of them moved. They just stared at me. "Well?" I demanded. Anger flared up along my spine, in my voice, behind my shined eyes. I could feel it twisting my features a little.

"We promised we'd come back with light and help," Caroline called to me. There was a dejected weariness in her voice that told me she was hurt and exhausted. She was telling me because duty demanded that she tell me, that she ask for my help, attempt to demand it from me. The captain didn't really want to go back out into the darkness for the other two. Neither did Angel, and neither did I. We weren't suicidal.

I threw the broken set of lights at them and said, "Here."

I was drawing a line, telling them silently that this murderer had no intention of leaving the safety of the skiff until it and I were parked on a civilized planet that didn't play host to flesh eating nightmares.

Caroline sank to her knees and hugged herself. Angel and I only watched her as her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Poor bitch. She felt like a demon for being tempted to leave the others behind, but it was only human to want to be safe, to not want to die. Why fight it? Self-preservation would win out every time. Didn't she know that? Angel and I were going to waltz out of here. Hopefully, Caroline would make the right decision and come with us.

"Come on, Caroline," I said coaxingly to her. She needed a stiff drink after we got her on board.

Angel's violet eyes flashed to me, and there was something there, though I couldn't read it. I wasn't sure if it was a warning, or hope, or hate. I had no clue. But she set one of her sandaled feet on the boarding ramp of the skiff, her eyes darting between me and Caroline's hunched form.

"I can't," she moaned.

I sighed. We didn't have time for this shit.

"No one will blame you, Caroline," I added, and then said, "Here, I'll help you. C'mon," and I slid my hands under her soaking armpits - sweat or rain, I didn't know - and began helping her stagger towards the top of the ramp. "Come on, don't feel bad. Everyone dies eventually."

She sobbed harder and sagged in my arms.

"Riddick, stop it. That's enough," Angel snarled at me. For once, she was actually directing her fury at me. The change threw me for a second, and then I shrugged her off. As kick-ass as Angel was, there was no way in fucking hell she could take me on. If I fucking had to, I'd knock her out and drag her ass on board the skiff. She'd thank me when we were finally off this damn midnight rock. Never mind that we'd left Jack and Imam behind. We had Caroline, wasn't that enough?

"Come on," I coaxed Caroline gently, as if she were an idiot or a child. Didn't she get it? She was free to come with me, to safety. Free to hitch a ride with Angel and me. They had both made it to the skiff against all odds. What was the problem?

"No," the dirty-blond woman sobbed.

Angel took a step toward her, and my shined eyes flashed on her immediately. She froze, her violet eyes wide and focused on my face.

"Don't even think about it, Angel. Don't even fucking push me right now."

We locked eyes for an eternity, pitch black and ultraviolet. Electricity and defiance crackled between us, even through the sheeting rain. Did she think she could win a fight against me? Was she going to attack me, over this? For Caroline? I doubted it. I seriously doubted it. Angel was mine, always had been. She was fucking devoted to me. Even this little... incident with the ship captain wouldn't change that fact. Why was she looking at me like that? Didn't she understand that this was for the best?

I let the rage unfold in my eyes, onyx pools of fury set in my face. I knew she could see it in me, the desire - no, the need - to kill something because I didn't want to leave the other two behind. Just as I hadn't wanted to leave her behind. Didn't want to, but had to.

"This is wrong, Riddick," she told me, her voice crystal cold. The rain ran tracks down her face like tears. If she'd been crying, would I have even been able to tell? "We can save them."

"How many more have to die, Angel?" I demanded. Didn't she fucking get it? If we went back, someone would die. I could feel it in my fucking gut. If we went back, I was going to lose someone. Why didn't she see that? We might all die. At least this way, we could save three. Better three than none! She had to understand....

Why was I so desperate for her to understand and accept what I was trying to do? Why did I care if she didn't like my plan? I didn't need her approval.

But I didn't want her to think I was a monster.

"We're leaving, because I don't want any of us to die out there in the fucking dark with the other two-" But that had been the wrong thing to say, I realized as Caroline surged to her feet with a guttural scream of rage and slammed into me, knocking me backwards. We slid down the metal ramp and hit the mud with a huge splash.

In an instant, Angel made her choice between me and Caroline.

I'll say this: I was pretty surprised.

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**Author's Note:** Two updates in one day. Are you excited? Reviews prove your love!


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